On The rocks
by Netsie
Summary: Wolverine and Jubilee are sent to prison, but can't remember why. Rated M for Violence, language, and mature themes. Please leave a review!
1. Stinkin Cell

Title: On The Rocks

Author: Me, 'Netlady' or 'Netsie'

Summary: Wolverine and Jubilee are sent to prison, with no memory of how they got there or why. They are sentenced to death - until Wolverine catches the merciful eye of Lady Yvanka.

Rating: M

Pairing(s): Wolverine/Jubilee

Feedback: Please leave feedback! It helps me write better.

Characters: Wolverine and Jubilee from Marvel comics. Also other Marvel characters.

Betas: No Betas.

Author's notes: This is the watered-down version than the one on the adult fanfic website. It is rated M for a reason. If you don't like violence and bad language, then don't read this.

Disclaimer: X-Men and Generation-X are the property of Marvel Comics and are being used without permission. I am not making any money. I'm not that lucky.

**"On the Rocks"**

---

Wolverine awoke and slowly sat up, his hands cradling his head as he did so. He tried to shake away the fog that clouded his mind, but it remained, causing a dull ache behind his eyes.

He couldn't make out where he was - he was having trouble seeing. Either the room was incredibly dark or there was something seriously wrong with him - and the way his head was pounding and his body ached, he was almost sure that it was the latter. He moaned quietly, trying to keep his voice down. Who knows what else - or who else - was nearby. His head hurt so badly. Fuck, what did he drink last night?

The darkness of the room covered him like a heavy, damp blanket. The room even smelled like a damp blanket. He sniffed sleepily. Oddly enough, he couldn't catch any other scent in the room - no person, no objects, no metal, no stone, just wet blanket. Usually there was always a maryad of smells for him to work through. Strange that there would only be just one.

His joints ached, and he began to feel worse as time went on. "Nnnuh," he muttered and fell beck into the dingy, gross puddle frome whence he woke up in. Every part of him felt so heavy and hot, as if he had fallen ill.

He swallowed, his mouth dry. He hadn't had something to drink for a while, he could tell. Just how long was he unconscious? He wondered if any fresh water was nearby. The stagnant water nearby looked and smelled nasty - that was probably where the wet blanket smell came from - he wouldn't dare touch it.

He closed his eyes and let his body relax - there being nothing better to do for the time being - hoping his healing factor would kick in soon. Whatever had happened to him, he would have to figure it out after he recouperated.

Jubilee was in the same room, only she hadn't awakened yet. She was awake now, however, and Logan was across the room, still unconscious. She didn't even know he was there, quiet as he was in breathing.

Why Wolverine didn't hear or smell her in the first place was anyone's guess. Still, she was there, and she felt incredibly dirty - her clothes stuck to her body, the sticky puddle she and Wolverine had fallen in made great glue once dried. She moaned, holding her head in her hands. Where the hell was she? She sucked in air and coughed. It stunk in here, like damp mold. She could hear water dripping nearby.

She looked up and grunted in pain. Her head hurt, and she felt as if she was deep underwater. Every time she moved, she felt the pressure in her head increase painfully. She caught sight of dingy metal bars above her, and she understood instantly where she was.

"Oh, just my flippin' luck." She hugged herself tightly. Dark, dingy cages. Those were always fun.

"It's so dark in here," Jubilee mumbled sadly, sticking her finger out. "Let's see what else is in this room. I'd die to see a box of pizza in here." The room lit up with dazzling sparks.

She immediately caught sight of a closed of a sewer grate, stagnant water, and a ledge that she sat on, the sticky puddle being grayish green in color. There was a skeleton half submerged in the water. "Oh, Gross!"

Wolverine awoke immediately, jumping to his feet in surprise. "What the-!" He was suddenly blinded by fireworks. "Cripes, Jubilee!" He shouted, and then the sparks fizzled away.

"Wolvie!" She shouted, surprised to see him here, turning around and running to him. She was going to hug him until he began to teeter on his feet. She grabbed him by the shoulders, trying to steady him. The slippery-when-wet, sticky-when-dry puddle made her slip under his weight, and she found herself crushed under 300 pounds of hairy muscle.

"Gaack!" Get off me!" She shouted, and he rolled over.

"Sorry darlin, -nnh-, not sure why I can't -nnh-, stand up." He collapsed in a bauble of exhausted flesh beside her, mouth slack with fatigue. Why hadn't his healing factor kicked in yet? "Not sure why I ain't healed yet," he whispered, feeling himself slip away into the world of dreams. "Feel ... so...drugged..." He whispered so quietly that Jubilee didn't hear, and then he was gone.

"Well, I still have my sparks," She said to the unconscious Wolverine, not realizing he had passed out. She lifted her hands to the metal bars above her. Sparks only fizzled for a moment, then died.

Her eyes widened. "No!" She gasped, taking off her yellow gloves. She tried to use her fireworks again. Nothing. "Nothing, nothing!" She began to panic. "I can't stand being in here without my fireworks! It's too dark!" She turned to look at Wolverine, it being too dark for her to see his face.

"Wolvie? Wolvie!" She shouted, shaking him. She began to panic. The walls began to move. She could hear squeaking in the darker corners of the room. She could only imagine what was lurking there, waiting for the best moment to attack her. They sounded a lot like rats. Hungry rats.

Suddenly she had trouble breathing. He heart began to race.

"Wake up, Wolvie! Don't leave me here in the dark! Wolvie! Can you hear me?" She shook him. "Don't leave me alone!"

---

Shortly after Wolverine lost consciousness, Jubilee began to panic. Her airways closed. She began gasping. She could see them - Oh, god, there were hundreds of rats - all gnashing their monstrous teeth at her. Some grew ugly claws and jumped for her.

"Aaaah!" She screamed, trying to produce paffs to defend herself. They crawled over her, tangling their dingy bodies in her hair and crawling into her sleeves. She felt their teeth sink into her flesh.

Some of the rats crawled over Wolverine, too, chewing on his fingers. "Stop it! Leave him alone!" She slapped at the rats, but they weren't concerned with her. They wanted food, and they continued to chew on him, as if they hadn't eaten in days. One managed to sever a finger off his hand. She shrieked.

"Don't! stop eating him, please!" How could she be so panicked and so tired at the same time? She felt light-headed, so light-headed that she couldn't stand anymore.

She collapsed next to him, unable to hold herself upright. She watched as the rats closed in on her, crawling over her face, long, hairless tails dragging across her body. Their whiskeres tickled her skin, and she could feel them chewing away at her flesh.

"Uuunnngh," She tried to squeal, to maybe wake Wolverine up or to scare the rats away, but her scream came out as an exhausted whimper, barely audible. Suddenly she couldn't move at all.

Her vision began to blur, the last thing she saw was a particularly vicious looking rat ripping off one of her fingernails.

---

Jubilee woke up screaming. Rats! Her fingers! She instinctively began slapping her body, trying to shake off any rats that may have remained on her. She glanced down at her hands in fear - her eyes only barely able to make out anything in the dark.

She felt her fingers, all ten of them, all of her fingernails in place and without a scratch. But they ripped off her fingernails! How could they be back!

And where did the rats go! They chewed off Wolverine's fingers and - Wolverine! Where was he?

How could he get through life without his fingers? Tears streamed down her face from the stress, and she began to gasp. Without warning, strong arms emerged from the darkness behind her, enveloping her in a strong hug.

"Shhh," Came the low, gravely voice that she knew so well. "I'm here, I'll protect ya." She instantly reached for his hands, feeling for his fingers. Yup, all ten were there. "What are ya doin'?"

"Oh, Wolvie! It was terrible!" She cried. "I saw them chew off your fingers, and I tried to stop them but my powers aren't working, and-"

"Chew off my fingers?"

"The rats!"

"Rats?" He sniffed. "I don't smell any rats, or hear them. Course, my sniffer is just about as good as yours is, now. I lost mine too, kid. Healin' factor and all."

She touched his fingers again, unable to understand. "But, they did chew them off. I saw them." She pressed her tear-streaked cheek against his fingers. She felt him wiggle them under her cheek. "They're all there, Jubilee. You had a bad trip."

"Trip? You mean I was-?" She sniffed and looked up at him, trying to make his face out of the darkness. She managed to catch sight of his upper lip but nothing else.

"Yeah. You wouldn't believe the nightmares I was seein' earlier." He glanced up at the metal bars and sighed. "That's about fifty feet above us. There ain't no way we're getting outta here."

Jubilee looked up. It was like looking up a chimney - a dark chute made of stone. At the top of the chute were metal bars. "Couldn't you use your claws to climb up?"

"Tried that already. The bars are adamantium, so I can't cut through them. Plus there's something real slimy up there that makes climbing with my claws a bit difficult." He leaned back on the wall and closed his eyes. "Looks like we're at the mercy of whoever stuck us down here."

"Oh happy-happy joy-joy." She mumbled, trying to ignore the dull ache in her chest. She put a hand over the pulsing, hot area and closed her eyes.

"Chest hurt?"

She nodded. Wolverine put a hand over his own breast where it ached, three inches above his left nipple. "Mine too."

---

They were startled awake by a large ogre-looking man. He had grabbed Wlverine, who was two-thirds the giant's size, and flung the comparitively small mutant through a door in the wall they didn't even know was there until now. Jubilee had tried to help - but really, what could she do without her powers against a giant?

Another man, also large and heavily muscled, grabbed Jubilee by her yellow coat and ripped it off of her. "You won't be needing coats where you're going." He then grabbed her by the shoulders. She did the only thing she could think of - she squeazed out of his grasp and bit him, then tried to run through the door.

There was another man waiting for her outside. Apparently, the guards had learned through experience that the newbies always tried to escape the first time, and never tried to escape again after. All they had to do was make sure enough guards were nearby to prevent escape.

"No!" She shouted upon seeing the guard, and she tried to slide underneath the man's legs. He had apparently seen that move before. He sat on her just as she slid underneath him, rendering her immobile.

Wolverine didn't have a healing factor to recover from the massive blow he took from the giant. He staggered to his feet and punched the man in the stomach, popping his claws at just the right moment. He was lucky he hit the man at all, since the impact with the wall rendered him temporarily blind. He may get an infection from the dirty place - but an infection was worth it if he could escape.

Wolverine felt hot blood flow across his fist. He raked his claws downwards before he stabbed with his left, removing his right from the man's gut.

The giant quickly grabbed Wolverine's right fist, holding it in place, then he pulled out Logan's left from his flank. The little man was incredibly strong, but he was much stronger. He didn't even flinch when Wolverine stabbed him. And just as quickly as he was stabbed, he healed.

He grabbed Wolverine by the scruff of the neck. "Bad move, pretty," and with a massive fist, punched his lights out.

---


	2. Rooter

---

Wolverine and Jubilee had been carried over the giant mutant's shoulders though a series of tunnels. Blood dribbled from Logan's nose onto the giant mutant's shirt, creating a beautiful contrast of red against white. Jubilee caught sight of it and tried to wake him up by shaking his shoulder.

The giant-sized guard glowered. "Don't try anything stupid, pretty."

The giant's fist was massive - bigger than Juggernaut's - and Jubilee was surprised he didn't do greater damage to him. Jubilee couldn't even see where Wolverine left his mark on the man's body.

So he also had a healing factor. With Wolverine's own supressed, Jubilee lost all hope of escape.

---

The two were dumped in a large cavern that looked more like a quarry. Wolverine had regained conciousness just as the giant slapped a collar and chain on him and Jubilee. "The two of you will mine the cavern with the other prisoners."

He lead them along on their chains as if they were dogs. He lead them to an area full of heavy rocks.

Wolverine assessed his environment. His frown deepened. There was no way in hell he was going to escape from this. There were giant-sized guards everywhere! There were about one-hundred prisoners, and for each prisoner there was a guard on duty! He whistled. "You take your prisoners seriously." He turned to look behind him. Two giant-sized guards kept watch over him. "Aw, I have two. How flattering."

"Shut up, pretty, and cut out the rock," The man said, pointing to the massive wall of what had to be a batholith. "You, pretty," he said, referring to Jubilee, "pick up the mess he makes and put it in the bag. When the bag gets full, dump it in the crate." He pointed to a bag made of an extremely heavy cloth.

Jubilee glanced at it and sighed. "But I have a bad back," She said, and heard Wolverine growl.

"Don't get cute, Jubilee."

"Smartmouth! Move it!" The giant shoved Jubilee at the bag.

She snorted. "Some people have no sense of humor." She grabbed the bag and started picking up the rocks that Wolverine chipped away at.

The heat in the cavern made them sweat bullets. They could tell it was going to be a very long day.

---

Five hours later, the two were left exhausted. There was no lunch break, no water break, and no bathroom break. Just work until you drop, or work until the guards drop. Jubilee and Wolverine worked until the guards called quitting time.

"Wolvie, all the prisoners here are malnourished. I swear I just saw two die out there."

He clenched his jaw. "I know. The guards don't care 'bout you or me or anyone else here. Just work til ya die or work till your execution day, accordin' to the other prisoners."

They were lead back through the tunnels from where they came originally. Logan chose to walk rather than be carried and risk another sucker punch from the giant guard that lead them.

He had looked for any concievable way to escape while he cut away at the batholith, any weak point or flaw in a guard's character, and he had found nothing. The prison was well constructed. Chaotic, but well constructed.

He knew it would be a bad move to break that chain and attempt escape for several reasons.

First, he had to look after Jubilee. She was self-sufficient with her powers, but without them, and against these guys? A few acrobatics from her wasn't going to floor anyone here but the malnourished prisoners. She would have to depend on him. He couldn't look after her and fight one-hundred giants with healing factors.

Second, he had no idea where to go. The walls were several feet thick, so it would take him several hours to cut through it, and someone would notice that fairly quickly. He could barely see two feet in front of him! He could see well enough in the cavern, but everywhere else was too flamin' dark to do anything. Especially in his cell.

Fourth, he had no enhanced healing factor, no smell, and no hearing. He could get by without them under normal circumstances, but starting an escape plan here without them was about as suicidal as sticking a gun to his head and pulling the trigger. All of these reasons came to one, big, ugly conclusion: They were fucked.

They were thrown back into their cell and back into the disgusting puddle. The huge stone door behind them closed. It had an ominous sound to it as it slid shut, a grinding sound that made a final KLACK, like the sealing of a coffin.

Jubilee put her hands on her head and groaned. "We're so dead."

---

**The Academy...**

It had been three days without any sign from Jubilee, and Emma was growing worried. She had begun to imagine all the things that could have happened to her - Church of humanity, Friends of humanity, Sentinels, Mr. Sinister ...

She hated doing it, but she phoned Xavier to let him know she was missing. Perhaps he could locate her with Cerebra? Truth be known, she loved that girl. She was trouble, but she was also full of life.

When Xavier told her he had given her permission to go to Moscow with Wolverine, Emma's worry turned into fury.

Emma held the phone tightly, knuckles white. "I don't appreciate you giving my student permission to run off with that beast without telling me! I had run myself ragged looking for her!"

"She will be safe," Xavier explained calmly, "She's with Wolverine. He won't let anyone harm her."

"Have you heard from her since she left?"

"Not yet. They missed their scheduled call-in. I imagine they must have located the killer. They could be held up."

Emma slammed the phone. "Great."

---

**In the prison...**

Right before Jubilee had been kidnapped, her birthday was one week away. Since it was constantly dark, there was no way to tell how many days had gone by, only that quite a few had. The way Wolverine could tell was that his stomach was growling almost contantly - and with his training, he usually didn't feel extreme hunger until a few days had gone by.

With Jubilee living on the streets in her early life, she had very similar training. Her body was used to a few days without food. But neither X-men could run on empty forever and cut out rocks. They both knew this.

She felt Wolverine move next to her and hug her. "Happy birthday, Jubilation."

She chuckled. "Thanks. You wouldn't happen to have a cake in your pocket, would you? I'm so frickin' hungry I could eat the slime off the walls."

"Sorry kid, no cake."

"How long have we been here, Wolvie?"

"I'd say two, maybe three days." He responded, eyes closed. "The pain should go away soon."

Jubilee snorted. "I know. I just don't like going so long without eating, y'know?"

They spent a few moments in silence. For days they had nothing to do but sit in silence. Jubilee was beginning to grow sick of it. Then she got an idea. She searched in the darkness and found his hand. She slapped it.

"What was that for?" He moved his hand away.

She found his hand and slapped it again.

"Come on, Jubilee, knock it off." He moved his hand out of reach again.

She found his hand again. Slap!

She could hear him grin behind her. He slapped her hand before she could slap his. Then she laughed and moved her hand just in time, and he slapped the gross puddle, causing droplets of filth splash against the walls. "Ha-ha! Too slow!"

They spent about half an hour slapping each other's hands. It was a boring game at best, but it kept their minds off the painful rumble in their stomachs. Wolverine won the slapping game seven-to-twenty.

Then they arm-wrestled, which he won, but he didn't particularly like that game since he was stronger, so he didn't find it sportly.

So they played the Pastor's cat for about an hour, going through the alphabet from A to Z as to what kind of a cat the pastor's cat actually was. Wolverine found the pastor's cat to be a loquatious cat, and Jubilee found the cat to be a masochistic cat.

Then Wolverine started teaching her Chinese phrases, and after she learned how to say "shut up" and "leave me alone before I fry your retinas," They both drifted to sleep.

---

Jubilee was dumping her load into the crate when the crate-pusher realized she was female. And a pretty, no less.

"Hey there, pretty-pretty, I got a load for you, too."

She felt a hand rest her on the ass. She shrieked and twirled around, punching her offender in the nose instinctively.

Wolverine glanced up just in time to see justice had been served. He couldn't help but smirk. That's his girl.

Then the worry set in. What if the guards saw her? Would they punish her? He heard a nearby prisoner chuckle. He turned to see that a prisoner had noticed his worried expression. The prisoner was a real ugly son of a bitch, too. He winced at the sight. His face was concave - his nose being the deepest part of his face, as if everything about him was inside-out.

"You gotta take shit from the guards and like it. But you don't have to take shit from no prisoner. No guard would bust her for that stunt."

Jubilee's offender was a dirty, middle-aged, ugly mutant who pushed crates. Now he was back to pushing, rubbing his face and grumbling.

"You just be sure the pretty keeps her assets hidden. Not many pretties, male or female, stay alive down here, and it gets awful lonely. Guards start looking for T and A, she's a dead duck." He jutted his chin out at Jubilee, then went back to chipping away at rocks with his pick. "Name's Rooter, by the way."

"Logan."

"So you two are the newbies. Gotta admit, I'm surprised to see you lived this long."

"Why?"

"Pretties. They don't live long."

Wolverine let a large boulder fall at his feet. He then stabbed the boulder, breaking it into small enough pieces that Jubilee wouldn't have to struggle to get it into the bag. "I hear ya. I can handle my own fine, it's Jubilee I'm worried about. And don't call me pretty."

"I'll call you whatever I wish, pretty. Being called names is the least of your troubles. Ya wanna live, I suggest you stop workin' hard as you are. You'll wear yourself out before they give you any food or water."

Wolverine raised an eyebrow. "'They bust ya up for not workin'?"

"Nah. Just keep moving. Their job is to make sure you work and don't escape. They're just here for the drugs. They don't care bout that frilly performance shit."

"Drugs?"

"Yeah. Why they're so big, heal so fast, real macho. Just a drug that separates us ugly frail muties from them. 'Cept you, pretty-boy."

Wolverine glanced at his two guards, then slowed his chiseling pace. The rocks fell in smaller pieces, and he used only half his strength to cut them out of the batholith. The guards noticed the change in pace. They eyed him for a moment, shifted their weight, and once they were sure he wasn't going to start anything, they looked away with disinterest.

"How 'bout that." He smirked. "Thanks, Rooter. I owe ya one."

---

Jubilee's movement had awakened him from his light sleep. She had bent down to drink the rancid water when Wolverine forcefully yanked her away. "What the hell you think you're doing?"

Normally, he didn't swear in front of her. But being stuck in this area for three days was wearing him down, and it was wearing Jubilee down, so much that they said things - things they would never say under normal circumstances - some good, some hurtful. They were tired and cranky and sometimes a little too honest.

"I'm thirsty!" She shouted at him, slugging him in the shoulder. She was too weak to even bruise him.

"That water will kill you if you drink it." He pointed to the skeleton, who was obviously a male by the size of the bones and skull, and a very ugly male by the looks of it. "He rotted in that."

"But my back hurts." She cried, burying her face in his chest. Her rubbed her upper back, even though he knew it was her lower back that hurt her. It was her kidneys, more specifically. He knew because his hurt, too. Working for three days without water was murder on their bodies, and they couldn't continue for much longer.

"I know. But ya can't drink that." He stroked her messy hair, frowning. If they didn't get water within the next day or so, they'd be dead. They both leaned back. They slept more than usual - lack of food made them tire easily, and it was a way to reserve energy. Plus, sleep relieved them of the pain they felt in their bodies.

They both drifted to sleep, his and Jubilee's body shaking in cold shock. There was no way that they would survive another day at the Quarry.

---

Wolverine awoke early to the sound of falling liquid, but it certainly wasn't water. He knew the sound. He jumped up just as the offensive liquid splattered on the gross stone ledge. "Move it, kid!" He shoved Jubilee out of the way, waking her from her sleep. His kidneys screamed at him with each movement he made. He ignored the pain and grit his teeth. He looked up and growled.

A man was standing on top of the bars, urinating. The man looked like a swayback, crooked and laughing as he relieved himself. "Wake up, prisoners!" He yelled down to them. "Ya thirsty?"

Wolverine was going to shout some very rude phrases at the sick individual, but shut his mouth as he saw two men carrying a very large bucket cross over the metal bars.

Water. Fresh water.

"Jubilee, I think they're droppin' water. If they are, get ready."

She was more than ready.

And the bucket was indeed filled with water.

As the water rained down, they caught the fresh, clear water in their hands and drank greedily. The men above were gracious enough to pour slowly, allowing the two to get as much of the water as possible.

When the water stopped falling, Jubilee looked up, concerned. She felt as if she didn't get enough. Neither did Wolverine. A question rose in Jubilee's mind that was begging to be asked.

"They called us prisoners, Wolvie. Why? What did we do to get in here?"

He looked back up at the grate. "Not a flamin' clue, Jubilation. I don't remember a flamin' thing."

"Wish someone would tell us." She sighed. "At least we don't have to sleep in a gross puddle," she said, looking down at a now fresh-water puddle.

The men walked away from the grate. The swayback snorted and spat down the chute as he left. Jubilee jumped out of the way as the loogey made its way down, splattering and mixing with the freshwater puddle. "Oh, forget I said anything!"


	3. The Miner

"You seem to know a lot about this prison, and everyone knows you well enough." Wolverine commented one day while at the Quarry. Most people knew no one else - no one lived long enough to get really acquainted. It fascinated Logan to know that Rooter was popular (as far as popularity went in a place like this). "Why is that?"

Rooter beamed with pride. "I am the longest living prisoner here. I've been here for five years."

Wolverine looked skeptical. The man was given the same amount of food that he and Jubilee was - and they weren't doing very well. They both knew that they wouldn't hold out much longer. "How'd ya survive for so long on such little food?"

Rooter's eyes gleamed with mischeif. "Mushrooms. There are dozens of mushrooms and lichens around here that are edible. Got to be careful which ones you pick," he chuckled, "or you'll end up like that skeleton in your cell. I hear that's how he died, poor fellow."

"Where are they?"

"That's a secret, my friend."

Crack, crack, crack, the rocks fell from the massive rock formation. Wolverine didn't realize until later that he was actually carving what would be a great hall within a few years. What he was working on mattered very little to him. What he was more interested in was the mushrooms.

"I happened upon a girl once who had a basket full of the things. Sweet little girl. Had two tusks on her like no one's business."

Wolverine listened as he chipped away at the rock.

"She got lost and ended up in the quarry. She wasn't a prisoner - actually, she was a kitchen hand."

Rooter stopped telling the story to look over his shoulder, to make sure no one was listening.

"I told her how she could make her way out of the quarry, and she told me where I could find a bloom of mushrooms. A trade of information, if you will. You have to understand, if I told any of the prisoners here where they are, I may not have anything to eat. They would pick them clean. There is only one edible species of mushroom, from my understanding. The lichens are edible, but I wouldn't suggest eating them. The lichens, in high doses, are lethal. Just the tiniest amount seems to work as a very strong aphrodisiac."

The corner of Wolverines mouth twitched. The thought of eating anything was making his stomach growl. Who gave a rat's ass about aphrodisiacs in a place like this? "So where do you find the time to pick mushrooms? The guards-"

"-and I struck a deal. I cause them no problems and they let me pick the mushrooms. Have you ever noticed that no guard lingers about me like all the others? I have no leash and collar. So long as I behave, they won't bother me. And don't bother to ask. I'll bring you a handful of mushrooms tomorrow."

---

**At the Mansion...**

"Have you located Wolverine and Jubilee?" Xavier asked, knowing it was near hopeless to ask. The answer was always the same. No.

Jean removed cerebra from her forehead and sighed. "Not a thing. It's as if they're not even on Earth anymore, or in a room that supresses telepathic probes." She had a headache from her constant use of telepathy - looking for them day after day.

Xavier let out a worried sigh and closed his eyes. The two were known to get into trouble, but they were never gone for this long. Three weeks was the longest Logan had ever gone without contacting someone to let them know what's up. But they were gone for longer - much longer than normal - without a single phone call.

That's what worried Xavier so much. It wasn't just a polite thing to do to let people know where you were when you went somewhere for weeks on end, but it was also a safe thing to do, and it was a habit all the Xmen had to adopt.

If any active Xman disappeared for longer than three weeks, it was customary to let someone else know where you were. Otherwise it was automatically assumed that your life was in peril, and a search party would then commence. It was safer that way. It saved lives.

"I'm going to send Scott and Beast to Moscow. That's where they were last when they disappeared." He opened his eyes. There hadn't even been a credit purchase on Logan's card for food, provisions, or anything. "I have a hunch they are still in the area, perhaps lying low."

He saw Jean's worried expression, and he laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I refuse to believe he died under the hands of a serial killer. He's more resourceful than that. In the mean time, I want you to continue looking for them." Jean made a worried expression and left the control room.

The two had been missing for months.

---

**In the prison...**

Apparently the caretakers had a schedule. Every three days water was dropped through the grate. Food had been dropped only intermittently, and the last time was four days ago. Just like clockwork, the guard would pee down the grate, then the water would come, then the loogey. Wolverine was sure the swayback was jealous of his good looks.

The pain in their backs had lessened only slightly. A few hours after the water came that day, another shadow fell over the grate, and they were quick to run out of the way in case that shadow also decided to take a wizz.

"Jeez, what is this, 'Piss on Pretties' day?" Jubilee hissed.

No piss came. The visitor was a very ugly female. She had two lower jaw tusks. The tusks jutted out of her mouth like an orc. "Oh, what lovely upworlders!" She shouted, then motioned for a nearby girl, also hideous, to come look. The second girl had only one eye in the middle of her forehead, like a cyclops.

The orc girl squealed. "He's so lovely!" She pointed through the grate at Jubilee. "And look! He has a companion! How lovely! Our Lady would wish to know of them!"

Neither Jubilee nor Wolverine knew how to respond. Do they say hello and risk getting spat on again, thus further stinking up their puddle-for-a-bed?

"Hello lovelies down there!" The orc girl giggled. "Would you like some food?"

The cyclops girl glared at her. "Why give them food? They're prisoners!"

"Yes!" Jubilee answered. Wolverine swallowed, the thought of food making him salivate.

The orc girl giggled again. "Such a lovely voice! I will get you food!" She then shoved the cyclops girl away. "Go tell our Lady of our lovely prisoners!" Both girls ran off.

They looked at each other in excitment. They were so hungry that the girls could give them rat food and they would eat it happily at this point. Adrenaline ran through their systems. They both smiled at each other, but it was a mutually sad smile. The thought of getting food was wonderful, but the thought of having to feel excited about a little food also felt i terrible. /i 

About ten minutes later, a shadow crossed over the metal grate. Theye watched as a woman stood above them. Well dressed as the woman was, they didn't think they had anything to worry about her urinating on them.

The woman looked down at the prisoners and smiled. Oh, and how beautiful she would have been if half her face wasn't melted. One half was like an ogre. The other was an angel. One could only wonder what happened to her - freakish accident or very unfortunate mutation?

"My," The lady said, looking down on them, "He is lovely. Good eye, Indah."

The orcish girl smiled in pride. "Will he do, my lady?"

The lady raised an eyebrow, and her smile faded, observing Wolverine as if he were a prize cow. "I like his face. He has good posture, and he is well built. He will do. Feed him." She turned and patted the head of the orcish girl, Indah, as she walked away.

The grate opened, and a wicker basket was let down by a rope.

He grabbed the food out of it. It was one loaf of stale bread, meant for only him. The basket was raised again. He could have yanked the rope and pulled whoever was lowering the basket into the prison cell with him and start making demands, but by the way the cyclops and orc girl treated each other, he doubted his 'caretakers' cared much for each other. It seemed like a risky endeavor that would more than likely seal their fate.

For now, he would behave. At least until a better opportunity arose for escape.

He broke the bread in half and gave one half to Jubilee. They ate quickly, their stomachs attacking the food the moment they swallowed. It would have been smart to save some of the food for later, in case they weren't fed tomorrow, but they were too hungry to think.

The bread was gone and their stomachs were temporarily satisfied. They both leaned against each other, back to back, supporting each other's weight. Logan rubbed the sore spot on his breast, frowning. Most of his aches and pains had left him, so why did his chest hurt still?

They spent the rest of their day in silence.

---

**Massachusetts Academy...**

"Summer is already over. I can't believe she's still gone." Paige said, pressing her fingers against the cool glass of the second-story window. "Where do you think she is?"

"Probably on a world-tour with her friend." Monet explained, unpacking. She only responded to Paige in the first place to shut her up and calm her down - the worry that poured out of her hickish little body was mind-blowing.

Monet had no logical reason to worry about Jubilee - Big Bad Wolverine would look after her, kiss her boo-boos and make sure she never did anything for herself - he would do her dirty work for her and bring her back home after he killed so-and-so. That was the theme of her life. Why would this time be any different?

Paige bit her bottom lip, wanting to believe Monet's every word, but finding it hard to do, under the circumstance. Jubilee would 'run off' with Wolverine for a few weeks at the most. But months? That was a long stretch. "I hope you're right."

---

**In the prison...**

At the Quarry, Wolverine was getting the evil eye from every prisoner in the area, and the guards stood a little closer. He wasn't quite sure what changed - was it because he was given food? - but he had a bad feeling that whatever it was didn't change for the better.

He went to his usual place and started chipping away at the rockface. Rooter strolled up beside him. "You said you owed me, Logan." He said, a pleasant tone in his voice.

"I did. Watcha want?"

"Please give me a share of food next time you get some, just a little bit, I'm terribly hungry."

Wolverine fell silent. The desperation in his comrade's voice was evident. "If I get some, sure."

The man laughed, the spark of life lighting his eyes as he chipped away at the rockface next to Wolverine. The thought of getting food made him gleeful. "Oh, I'm glad I met you! I hear you caught the eye of the Lady. Is that true?"

"Yeah, what of it?"

The mutant shrugged. "That's never happened before. She doesn't bother with prisoners at all. To hear her coming down to look at a pretty and feed him is big news."

"Don't know why she'd care about a," his nose wrinkled in disgust at the description, "_pretty_. I work the same as anyone else here does."

Wolverine's heart jumped into his throat as he heard Jubilee scream, followed by a loud CLANK! as a pick struck the stone floor. A man screamed shortly after.

"She stabbed me!" A nearby prisoner stumbled into sight, clutching his bloody foot. Jubilee had apparently driven the pick through him. And it looked very intentional. She glowered at the man, fists drawn. "She stabbed my foot, the fucking cunt! I'll fucking kill her!" He didn't look like he was in the position to kill anyone, the way he hopped about on one foot. Still, it was a threat both Wolverine and Jubilee took personal.

"Jubilee! What in-"

"-He attacked me!" She pointed at him.

The man glowered. "Just trying t' teach her some respect! She ain't better than us just 'cause she's a pretty." He spat at her. "Bitch! you know your place, that's under a man!"

"I ain't below anyone! Especially _you!" _She kicked him in the gut. The man fell, overcome with the pain he felt in his stomach and foot. Rooter cheered for her.

Wolverine could tell the man wasn't going to work anytime soon with that kind of an injury - not in a place like this. It was a rusted pick, no less. The man would be lucky if he didn't get tetanus.

Through the corner of his eye, he saw a guard approaching, gun cocked and ready. "Jubilee, Rooter, time to scat." The three left the scene quickly, getting back to work. The other prisoner was left alone, unable to walk. He looked up at the guard, fear in his eyes.

"The pretty girl, she did this to me," The prisoner explained. His guard stared at his foot, thinking. He chewed on tobacco slowly as he assessed the damage.

"Ya can't walk on that, and we ain't got a hospital for ya when you come down with the lockjaw." He spat, a brown mess splattering beside the prisoner. He aimed his gun.

"NO!" The prisoner shouted, trying to cover his face with his arm.

**_BLAM! _**The prisoner fell limp, lifeless.

Logan chipped at the rockface. He swallowed hard when he heard Jubilee cry softly. She continued to pick up the rocks he dropped, shoving them in the bag. He could see a tear slide off her check and create a dark, small ring on one of the rocks.

"You're alright, kid." He said, not wanting to risk stopping work. He knew how she felt about killing. He knew she wouldn't take this easy. But he didn't want to catch the attention of the guard by comforting her, either. "You'll be fine. You ain't hurt."

Jubilee nodded, swallowing her tears, and continued to gather the rocks.

It was Jubilee's good aim that ended up killing the prisoner. If the guard hadn't shot him, the infection that was sure to come would have finished the prisoner off. In a way, Jubilee had sealed his fate with a single swing of a miner's pick. Jubilee knew it, and so did Wolverine. She had made her first kill.


	4. Lady Yvanka

The Lady Yvanka glanced down sadly at her tiny stomach, laying a hand on it. She was having doubts. "Indah, I am not sure of this."

"Is he not lovely enough, my lady?"

She laughed. "No, he is lovely enough." She could share her bed with that prisoner with the dark hair and rugged features - he was quite handsome. No, she wasn't sure the plan would work. "I do not think I can bear the heartbreak of losing another."

The orcish girl grabbed a brush from the ornate dresser and began to brush Lady Yvanka's long, ink-black hair. "You are strong, my Lady. Stronger than anyone I know. You will bear our Lord an heir, you'll see."

"I never concieved a child with my Lord. And as painful as it was for him to see me share my bed with a prisoner, he had such great hope for me." Her eyes brimmed with tears. "And I lost it!"

It had happened a year ago, and Indah, a little kitchen waif then, had been there to nurse her back to health after the miscarriage. It was Indah's kindness and knowledge of drugs and herbs that brought the Lady Yvanka back to the world of the living.

Indah was blessed to be made one of the Lady's maids. Within a few short months, she had gone from a starving rat to a well-fed favorite. It was like a fairytale. Her life, as many of her kitchen-friends explained, was charmed.

But the Lady had lost her love of life. Where once she had a mischevious spark in her eyes was replaced with a dull glow.

"Oh, my Lady, but the lovely down in the cell may be different!"

The woman shook her head. "No the problem lies with me." She couldn't have children. And neither could her Lord. They had to either adopt one of her people's children - ugly mutants as they were, god bless them - or find a surrogate father and mother. And she knew two perfect, lovely candidates.

She grabbed Indah's hand, making her drop the brush. "Indah, I have a job for you."

---

Wolverine and Jubilee came back to their cell, and they were too tired to think up any good words for what the pastor's cat was today. They were mentally and physically exhausted - their environment was eating away at them. Still, they tried to keep going.

"The pastor's cat is an ostentatious cat." Jubilee responded quickly, nearly breaking a sweat. What she would pay to have Beast here helping her out. Wolverine had an unfair advantage to this game - he had been alive for two-hundred years or more, and had much longer exposure to bigger words than she did. Still, it was a game he didn't seem to tire of easily. It kept him going, so she continued to play it. Besides, she had to keep her mind off what happened at the quarry. She couldn't deal with it. Not now.

"The pastor's cat is a perspicacious cat." The pastor's cat was a what? There, that's what she meant. Where the hell did he come up with something like that? That seemed to be a word that would only be needed once every two hundred years or so.

"The pastor's cat is a quixotic cat." She knew that one was lame, but she got a hard letter.

"The pastor's cat is rapacious cat." There, that one she knew.

"The pastor's cat is a spurious cat." She felt proud of herself. She never used that word until now.

"The pastor's cat is a taciturn cat." That one couldn't have been real. Sometimes she wondered if he used made up or foreign words on her.

"Oh, come on, Wolvie, that is not a real English word."

"Look it up, kid, it's real."

"I would if I had a dictionary."

They heard the grate open, and both jumped to their feet.

It was the orc girl again, grinning as she lowered food. Instead of stale bread, it was a slab of cooked roast beef, fresh bread, a bottle of milk and honey. The lady was there again, watching as the food was lowered.

"When shall we execute, my lady?"

Being far enough away and without his sensitive ears, Logan caught the word 'execute' only. He looked up at the two. Oh, so they were to be executed soon. He strained to hear. If he were to be executed soon, he'd like to know about it ahead of time. Maybe it could give him a tactical advantage?

She studied the two prisoners carefully. "She looks healthy enough. Tomorrow."

Wolverine caught the last word only. Tomorrow? They were to be executed tomorrow? He shouted up at the lady. "On what charges are we being executed?"

Jubilee gasped. "Executed! When!" She glanced down at the food. The food was better than normal - was this her last supper? Suddenly she didn't feel very hungry.

The lady frowned at the prisoner. She spoke loud enough for him to hear. "It's not polite to eavesdrop."

"Can't help it. Good ears, mutant powers or no."

Her dainty eyebrow rose in interest. "Is that so? And what makes you think we will execute you?"

She caught Wolverine's expression and smiled. "Don't worry. So long as you eat the food we give you and behave, you won't have to worry about execution."

"That's a relief!" Jubilee shouted. "Why are we down here, anyway?"

The woman scowled. "Trespassing. The two of you were sneaking in our tunnels and accessing our databanks. We would have executed you then, under normal circumstances."

Wolverine rubbed his chin in thought. The lady's explanation had broken free a few loose memories. Yes - he and Jubilee were to investigate a series of suspicious murders in Moscow where an unusually ugly mutant was suspect - the suspect led them to a labyrinth of tunnels deep underneath the city! Just like the morlock tunnels . . . he couldn't remember anything else, however. "Are we in Moscow, then?"

"You are underneath Moscow. A city underneath a city. I am the Lady Yvanka. My husband is Lord here. But we are getting off topic." She pointed at them. "The two of you were caught trespassing and you could have been executed. If you behave, I will let you walk within the year. But you must earn your freedom now. I bid you farewell. Indah will take care of your needs from now on."

As she left, Indah peeked furthur down the chute at the lovelies. She waved at them before closing the grate.

---

There was food for the both of them this time. Logan cut the meat with his claw, giving her half. He cut a portion off of his and hid it in his jacket.

"Watcha doin' Wolvie?" She asked as he stashed small portions of the food.

"It's for Rooter. I owed him a favor."

Jubilee swallowed, then looked down at her own food. Should she give him some of hers, too? She sudenly felt guilty. She hadn't even thought about her friend. Logan saw her expression. "You eat all that. I'm repayin' my debt. You're just a skeleton anyway." He handed her the bottle of milk. "And don't feel guilty. Anyone else in this hell hole wouldn't even consider sharin' that food. Yer a good kid."

"Don't call me a kid." She took the milk, not finishing her bread. "I'll save some for him, too. He's also my friend."

"Whatever. You drink your half first, Jubilee."

Jubilee did. Then he drank his portion, leaving a few good swallows for Rooter. The milk would be warm by then, but it would still be good.

They didn't bother spreading the slab of honey over the bread. The honey was dessert. They ate the sugary liquid from their fingers, grinning as they did. For so long without food or anything sugary, the honey tasted like the best dessert ever made.

"Expensive stuff, that." He said, pointing to the slab of honey that was nearly gone.

"What? Honey? Expensive?"

He nodded. "Think about it. We're underground. There ain't no bees around here. Someone has to go above ground to get that. Imagine how hard it is, ugly as these guys are, buying honey outta a grocery store when they have no currency."

She glanced down at the honey, swallowing. "How did we get on the Lady's good side again?"

"Not a clue."

---

**At the mansion...**

"Still no sign of them?" Xavier asked. Each day his worry grew. He could usually sense Logan and Jubilee's presence, but ever since they went on that mission, he couldn't sense them at all. He didn't feel any deaths, but he felt an eerie quiet, as if their vital signs had been silenced.

"Well, there's a sign of Wolverine, at least." Beast said, inspecting the rotting corpse. "We found the body inside a sewer tunnel, mauled."

"Looks like Wolverine got him. The killings have stopped, I'm betting this is the murderer he was looking for."

"I have detected some burn marks on his body, more than likely from Jubilee's plasmoids. Whoever he was, he must have been a considerable force to make her resort to burning him. And for Logan to kill in front of her." Beast added, inspecting the rotting corpse, a hand over his nose to block out the stench.

Xavier put a hand over his mouth and closed his eyes. "And still they are missing. No clues left to determine where they had gone?"

"Not even a footprint. I'm sorry, Professor. We're looking blind."

If that girl got hurt... He heard Emma's telepathic threat. She had come to the Mansion all the way from the Academy to try out Cerebra, to try to locate the two missing mutants. She was as successful as Jean and the Professor was. She found nothing.

---

**In the prison...**

The two were leaning against each other one night, back-to-back. Logan was massagng the sore spot on his chest, lost in thought when he heard Jubilee chuckle. It broke his concentration and surprised him. It was a jovial sound, something Logan hadn't heard in weeks.

"What's so flamin' funny?"

Jubilee laughed again. "Ya know, Wolvie, aside from the stink and the quarry, getting pissed on, robbed of daylight, starved to death, drugged up and spat on, this place isn't so bad."

The room fell terribly quiet. Then a slow rumble emerged from Logan. She felt his back vibrate from laughter.

The two were laughing from the stress of it all - they laughed until tears ran down their faces at the sheer misery that they found themselves in. They had to laugh, not because it was funny, but because otherwise they would fall into depression, and that was the one thing that killed a man the fastest.

Loud, jovial whoops emerged from their cell, making other miserable prisoners wonder what was so flamin' funny and how they could get into that cell.

---

The next morning, the two guards came to bring Wolverine and Jubilee to the Quarry. He grabbed the glass bottle of milk. The guards eyed it suspiciously.

"I ain't gonna hit you with it," he growled. "Why bother hitting you with this when I got claws? It's for a friend. It ain't gonna hurt him to get a little food, will it?" He made a good point. But still, it was an odd request. The guards weren't sure how to respond.

One guard moved fast as lightning and grabbed Wolverine by the face. "You try anything smart, you little bug, and you'll wish you were never born." He shoved Wolverine with enough force that he fell into the puddle.

"Yer a real charmer," He muttered, getting up. His guards put the collar around his neck.

One guard pointed to the door. "When you get to the quarry, tell your friend to eat fast. Move it!"

The two were shoved through the hallways and into the Quarry.

---

"Oh, my! You are a good friend!" Rooter said excitedly, shoving the honey-covered bread into his mouth. Wolverine noticed the guards impatiently watching.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, just hurry up. Those guards aint evil, but they ain't patient, either." He said, handing the glass bottle to Rooter. He immediately began to chip away at the rock.

"The honey was compliments o' Jubilee." He said as the rocks began to fall to his feet. Jubilee was already bagging the rocks. She took a brief moment to smile at Rooter.

"Thank you, pretty." He said, licking his fingers.

Usually, Jubilee had as much of a negative reaction to that word as Wolverine did. The word pretty down here was by no means a compliment. This time, he said the word to mean exactly that. Jubilee batted her eyes playfully. He finished the milk and dropped the bottle, getting to work.

Wolverine was more relaxed now. He didn't feel nearly as protective of Jubilee as he had been. Ever since the incident with the other prisoner, she was left well alone. As Rooter had said - he didn't need to waste his energy worrying about her and other prisoners. It was the guards - and they seemed to be just as protective of her as they were of him, now.

After they met the Lady, the guards were more gentle, more attentive, and more protective. He could only guess that the Lady had favored them, and the guards were respecting her wishes. It made life here easier. So what if the other prisoners hated his guts? The feeling was entirely mutual. Most of these prisoners deserved to be here by way of rape and murder. Logan was here by tresspassing.

If getting on the Lady's good side was a way for him and Jubilee to get out, then he would make damn sure to please her. But then again ... he grinned as he cut away from the rock face ... if he found a way to escape sooner, then he would take it.

---


	5. Losing Control

**One week later ...**

Wolverine was leaning against the wall, eyes closed, deep in thought. He had felt strange for an entire week and wondered why. It was hard to describe. Ever since he and Jubilee started getting fed daily, he simply felt 'off,' like he wasn't exactly himself, even though nothing was wrong with him.

Jubilee certainly wasn't acting herself, although she didn't take notice. It was a subtle change in behavior. She was more emotional and more sensitive. He figured at first that the death of the prisoner had something to do with it.

But that didn't explain why he too didn't feel quite right. It was a strange feeling, indescribable. It certainly wasn't life-threatening, but it gave him something to think about. It was a fascinating puzzle. Was it something in the food? The more he thought about it, the more it made sense.

---

**The Massachusetts Academy...**

Emma Frost rubbed the back of her neck in frustration. "Paige, the Xmen have already sent a search party for Jubilee and Wolverine," she said his name as if it was the name of a disease. "There's no need to send another. I'm as concerned as you are for Jubilee. But I'm confident Xavier will find them." She struggled over her sentence as if she had recited them and didn't believe a word of it.

"Right." Paige frowned and left the room, playing with her necklace as she shut the door to the Headmistress's office. _'If you're so confident in the search party, then why are you always scowling?'_ she thought to herself.

"Paige!" Everett ran up to her with a grin. "Miss me?" He said, then gave her a massive hug, the kind of hug friends give when they haven't seen each other in three months.

"Of course I did, Ev! Did you enjoy your summer?" She laughed, her gloomy thoughts temporarily wiped away. She gasped for air, making him let go.

"Yeah. I had a great summer! Missed the team, though. Hey, have you seen Jubilee and Monet? I can't find either of them."

A shadow crossed over her eyes for a split second. She didn't answer. Everett caught on to her silence, and his expression quickly changed to match hers. "What is it?" Worry for his girlfriend rose in the pit of his stomach, small and painful like a weed. "Where's Monet?"

She regained her smile, sliding on a mask of cheerfulness. "Oh, Monet's fine! She's around here somewhere. You know you can just mentally call for her, she's a telepath, remember?" She didn't need to tell Everett Jubilee was missing. That was Emma and Sean's duty as team leaders, and she would leave the responsibility to them.

He clapped her on the shoulder with a laugh and descended down the hall. "Right. See you in class tomorrow!" He made the peace sign as Paige slowly walked the other way. Emma could still feel the worry in her star pupil, and interjected comforting words into Paige. _Thank you for your discretion. And she'll be fine, Paige. She'll be fine._

---

**The prison**

When Indah opened the grate, she made her usual greeting. "Hello Lovelies! Here is your food!" She lowered the food, the typical slab of meat, two loaves of bread, milk and honey. "Do you need anything else?"

Wolverine shouted up to her. "Fruit!"

Indah looked at him as if he were crazy. "Fruit? You need fruit? Why?"

"Scurvy! We'll get sick if we don't get vitamin C! Do you have any fruit?"

Indah nodded. "You like apples? We have apples. I'll get you two tomorrow!" She scurried off.

"Wolvie," Jubilee said, taking tiny bite-sized portions of the meat, "does this meat taste funny?"

"We ain't in the position to critique the food we get, Jubilee." he commented, then took a bite. It tasted like acid in his mouth, bitter. "It i does /i taste bitter."

He concentrated on the taste, trying to assess what it was. Without his heightened sense of smell, his sense of taste was almost worthless. There was no way to tell what that odd taste was. "It's not bad meat. Maybe it's a spice."

Jubilee tasted the bread. It too tasted bitter. "The bread is bad, too. Is it poison?" But why go through all the trouble of poisoning someone when you could starve them to death? Or shoot them? And that went against what Lady Yvanka had agreed.

"Not poison," he said, certain. It tasted almost like a rare, poisonous mushroom he ate once. He had a healing factor then, so he was lucky he didn't die. Instead, he had crippling stomach cramps for days. "I think it's a lichen."

Didn't Rooter say something about the lichens here? What was it about them again? He remembered not caring about the lichens - the mushrooms were his interest. Damn, he should have paid more attention.

"A lichen? I never tasted one of those before." She didn't eat the bread, or the rest of her meat, for that matter. The bitter taste was too strong, and her instincts told her not to eat any of it. Wolverine, too, abandoned the meat and bread, his instincts saying the same. They ingested only a small amount. A small amount wouldn't kill them, right?

She dipped her finger in the honey and tasted it. "The honey is still sweet. It doesn't have that stuff in it."

He tasted the milk. That was safe, too. They both shared the milk, drinking slowly. They saved the honey for last, per tradition.

Having no utinsels, They both had been messy. Wolverine got honey on his hands, and Jubilee got honey on her chin and neck. She was about to wipe it off when he grabbed her hand to stop her. She looked up at him questioningly. She took notice that his pupils were abnormally huge. Perhaps it was the dark? Maybe his eyes adjusted after being here for so long?

But she could also see in the dark a little better, too. Were hers big like that, too? "Uh," she breathed, feeling light-headed. He always did have beautiful eyes. Why did it take her until now to notice? He moved away for just a moment, a fleeting expression of surprise and disgust slick across his face.

Then he leaned in slowly and gently pressed his mouth to her chin, licking up the sweet honey. She almost pulled away in shock, but something inside her kept her still. She felt different - and clearly so did Wolverine.

Her mouth opened, half from breathlessness, the other half questioning. Her body felt hot all over, as if someone had turned up a thermostat in her cell.

"Wolverine," She said just as he closed his mouth over hers. A shock of electricity moved from her lips and shot down her back, spreading across her body at his kiss. It came as a sudden surprise. It was a surprise she didn't fight. His face was delightfully rough, his stubble scratching her delicate skin. She heard his breaths deepen; his chest expanded farther, breathing heavier and quicker.

He trailed kisses down her chin where droplets of honey remained on her neck. She leaned her head back and moaned. "I think," he said between kisses, "th- they d-drugged us-"

Jubilee and honey was a delectible mix. Her taste on his tongue and her breath on his ear sent him into a dazzling haze. He was almost too breathless to speak. He felt Jubilee's hand run down his stomach to the firm mound between his thighs. "-Ohh," He breathed heavily, partly because he felt as if he could never get enough oxygen, and the other part was arousal.

"The lichen?" Jubilee put two and two together, then shivered as his hands ran down her sides. He had a very gentle, experienced touch, just as she had imagined it would be. Every time their skin made contact, it sent electricity through her body.

She licked off the honey he had spilled on his hand, right over the area his claws emerged. He could kill her right there, just by unsheathing those razor-sharp blades. But he would never and could never harm her in that manner, so she let her face hover over his hand, licking off the honey, thrilled at the potentially fatal position. She then let his hands fall, and he gently slid them up her body and underneath her shirt. "Ah!"

They continued their caresses, exploring each other's bodies, trying to stop but being unable to.

"Logan," She said, not wanting to talk any more, only act, but knowing she had to speak. "I love you," she gasped, burying her hands in his raven-black, soft hair, "but not like this."

He never stopped kissing her. He showered her in them, little acts of affection, covering her body with them. "-I know, I love you," He gasped as her hand trailed down his hairy chest, scratching his skin lightly with her nails. "You're my lifeline, but you're also my _family_..."

She unbuttoned his dirty jeans, and he slid off her shirt. He leaned into her, his weight trapping her underneath him.

"You're my..." She swallowed and closed her eyes. "... my friend."

"So..." She asked as her pants were slid off, Logan putting one heavily muscled arm across her chest to keep her still as he undressed her. He didn't need his heightened senses to smell that she was aroused. It was the musky, sweet smell of a woman. His pants and shirt were abandoned between caresses and kisses, touches of affection and hot breaths. _"...w-why cc-cant w-we s-s-stop?"_

He kept her pinned underneath him, using his adamantium-laced weight to keep her immobile. Knowing she was helpless underneath him gave him a primal thrill. He would never harm her, or put her in the position to desire escape, but it fed the animal desire lurking within. To be able to overpower and lay claim to the most expensive of treasures was intoxicating.

He glanced down at herbody. She was well-defined, living the life as an X-man making sure she was fit. She had graceful, strong bones, and aside from being slightly emaciated, she looked healthy, skin aglow with youth and vitality. She grew up alongside him, traveled with him, and fought alongside him. "You're beautiful."

_"I don't want to do this..."_ They both said in unison, both in disgust and passion, both understanding what each other meant. They weren't lovers - they were each others' saviors, both eternally linked by mutual love. They saved each other's lives more than they could count. She was his salvation. He was hers. But they weren't, and could never be, lovers.

His hands locked into her hair. _This isn't right_, a part of his mind said. His body ignored him, acting on its own accord. His sanity had left once he ate the food, and by the animalistic look he was getting from Jubilee, the same happened with her. He didn't want to make her wait any longer. He closed his mouth over hers, and entered roughly.

**_"Mmph!" _** The sensation of him made her shriek in surprise and pleasure. She could see sparks in her closed eyelids. He groaned, the months of celibacy having worn down his reserve and making his contact with Jubilee all the more intense. He slammed her against the wall roughly. "Ungh!" She grunted. He bit her shoulder until he tasted her blood in his mouth. She dug her nails into his back.

Her knocked her against the gritty stone wall. It didn't give to pressure like a bed did. They moaned together, their voices rising, matching each other pitch for pitch. Their bodies worked like a well-constructed choir, making heavenly music.

Aroused as she was through the drugged food, it didn't take long before her heart began to pound in her ears, her body flushing red. She bit him on the neck as he did her, burying her teeth into his skin. She too tasted blood, and wanted more.

He could feel his release coming on, like an unstoppable pressure. His claws burst through his hands, embedding themselves into the stone beside her head. His muscles tensed for a moment, then his body began to shiver. Through the fog of the drug, a sentence ran in his mind, barely noticeable. _Protection, you need protection. _ Too late for that, and too drugged to care, the message slipped away and was forgotten.

He exhaled as all tension drained away. His claws retracted into his forearm, and he pulled her away from the wall. He fell back into the puddle, her on top of him.

His body felt heavy and satisfied. Jubilee was breathing heavily, also satisfied and limp. Their eyes began to droop, lids gone heavy with sleep. He heard her sigh genty, and watched as her eyes slowly closed. He let his eyes close, letting the darkness claim him.

---

He hadn't slept for very long, perhaps an hour, not much longer. The drug was still running strong through his veins, sending a burning sensation throughout his body, every inch of him, as if his heart didn't beat blood at all but molten, liquid lava.

He awoke with Jubilee resting naked beside him, her arm wrapped around him, her hand curled underneath his chin. She was hot to the touch, just as he was.

He had been satisfied earlier. But the desire had grown back, not so strong, not so needful, but still there, demanding the thirst be quenched. He rolled over gently, cushioning her bruised back undeneath his hands. He kissed her on the neck and worked his way down, and she stirred, waking up slowly.

Her arms raised to caress him. She ran her hands over his biceps, up his shoulders and neck, cupping his face. She couldn't even see him in the darkness, having just been aroused from her shallow sleep.

_Be gentle_, that little voice in Wolverine's head said, so quiet compared to the lichen's rushing pulse in his ears. He had been too rough with her earlier. That was her first time and the first time always hurt. He would be very gentle, this time. She moaned softly as he entered her slowly in the dark, taking his time with her.

Their bodies rose and fell repeatedly, like the rising and setting of the sun. Jubilee lifted herself from underneath him with her arms. He leaned back, letting her take control, letting her be the one on top and the one to decide how deep and how fast they moved.

She moved above him, rocking back and forth, their movements fluid and graceful as any waltz, all the while his hands roamed her body, gently caressing and petting, causing her body to tremble in pleasure, like touching a taught violin string. She moaned at his careful touches, making music to his ears.

He squirmed underneath her, trying to control the desire to ruin the dance by finishing too soon.

Her skin felt like it was on fire. His skin was as hot as hers, red and feeling scorched, as if she was the demoness and he was the demon. She took his hands into hers and spread his arms above his head, the movement reminiscent of spreading wings.

They rose again, their heartbeats increasing. "Oohh," She moaned. He put his hands on her hips, pressing into her as deep as she would allow him. Her muscles clenched around him, milking him. Again, his claws erupted from his hands as every muscle spasmed with his release.

The two fell to the stone floor once more, exhausted, their dance crumpled. They held onto each other's hands as their eyes drooped again, the lichen and post-coital fog robbing them of reality, whisking them away into the fickle world of dreams.

---

**In the sewers...**

"The sewers down here are incredible," Scott said, wrinkling his nose.

"I full-heartedy concur, in smell and in complex design." Beast replied, grimacing at the stench. "Remind me again what made you think of looking in the sewer tunnels rather than the train station tunnels?"

"The way those claw marks were positioned back there suggest he went this way. They were shallow and were on both sides of the walls. The lower claw mark was the most shallow of the three. That would suggest he was running forward and scraping his claws along the way."

Beast raised his brows, realization donning on him. Of course! He should have caught onto that himself. Why didn't he notice something that obvious? 'It appears, dear boy,' Beast thought to himself, 'that the concentrated methane vapors of this place has irradiated your mind.'

"Look!" Scott pointed to a part of the wall that had looked as if someone had shot fireworks off of it. "Jubilee's calling card. They were definately here."

Excited at finding a clue, they ran further into the darker tunnel. Splish-splash, their heavy footsteps caused echoes through the massive tunnel system and kicked up all sorts of muck as they went. They slid to a stop as they reached a T section.

"So... right or left?"

---

**The prison**

She didn't remember getting dressed, but when she awoke (which was something she would have rather avoided), every article of clothing was in place, just as it should have been. At first, she hoped what happened earlier was a freakish dream. Then a wave of pain hit her. She hurt _everywhere._ Her head was pounding and she felt dizzy, as if the lichen hadn't fully worn off. There were sore spots on her shoulder blades and back of her head, where she had been shoved against the stone wall repeatedly. Her shoulder hurt the worst by far. She had four puncture wounds from Wolverine's canine teeth when he bit her. Between her legs she felt used, slippery and sticky.

"Ow," she mumbled quietly, shifting. She stole a glance at Wolverine, who rested stiffly against a different wall, careful to keep his back from touching anything. She had raked him with her nails, she remembered. She also bit him, hard. She could see the red mark on his neck, and knew it all wasn't a bad dream at all, but cold, stark reality. She leaned against the wall opposite of him and grimaced, her body complaining with each movement she made.

Wolverine cracked open one tired eye. His head was swimming still, causing him extreme nausea whenever he moved. Without a healing factor, his back hadn't healed yet, and that was sore from Jubilee's nails, and his neck hurt from her bite. He imagined she was in much more pain than he was, however. He felt an entirely different stab of pain hit, deep in the heart. Guilt and shame washed over him when he saw her grimace as she leaned against the wall. Christ, even if he was under the influence, how could he do this to her? And what would he do to Lady Yvanka when he escaped? The possibilities were mind-blowing.

He struggled to form coherent words, the lichen's drug still in his system. "saddle-sore?" he asked, and Jubilee nodded.

"A little," she said despite the pounding in her head. She was tired - so incredibly tired.

"I'm sorry," she heard him say, his words full of sorrow, "I'm sorry." He drawled before drifing back to sleep.

She fought her tears away, biting her lower lip, trying to prevent a shame-filled pout that threatened to wash over her face. "I'm sorry, too."

---


	6. The Coldest Night

**One Week Later...**

They now spent their mornings in silence. They felt as if they needed to say everything, but everything had already been said days before - during the - what? What could that be called? It wasn't lovemaking, and it wasn't sex because it wasn't consentual on either side. Rape seemed to be the best word to describe what took place. And during that time they said they weren't lovers, they didn't want to do what they ended up doing, and they were sorry. What else _was _there to say?

What Lady Yvanka did maimed the special bond Logan and Jubilee had between each other. They couldn't even speak to each other, too guilty to look each other in the eye. How can two people who share their deepest thoughts, who saved each others' lives countless times, be afraid to even look at one another? They spent their time in silence now, miserable, lonely silence, and it angered them.

Jubilee had felt a painful stab in her stomach early one morning that had pulled her out of her sleep. For no reason at all except for strees and misery alone, she curled around herself and began crying. She had never felt so terrible in her life, not even after Bastion had beaten her ruthelessly during Operation Zero Tolerance.

Wolverine awoke to her mournful cries and found Jubilee sobbing, rocking herself back and forth. He had crept close to her, and almost hugged her, but he hesitated at that moment, afraid to touch her.

"Just hold me, Wolvie!" She cried, not lost on his hesitation and the reason why. He pulled her into a tight hug and rest his chin on the top of her head. She shook like a rattlesnake's tail, her tears dropping on his arms.

"I don't want to be in this stinkhole any more! I want out!" She grit her teeth, her body bent over in anguish, white-hot tears streaming down her face.

"Just cry," He smoothed her hair gently and murmured to her. He cooed to her as if she were his child, trying to fight his own rising anger. It wouldn't do Jubilee any good for him to regress into rage. Not here. Not now. "let it out."

Soon her cries turned into sniffles, and she fell quiet, her eyes locked on the dingy puddle underneath them. Wolverine sat next to her, arms wrapped around her in comfort.

There was so much to say - yet there was no way to say it. No words came to him. It frustrated him. How could he manage to talk about his experiences of getting his adamantium ripped out, lose his loved ones and memories, become the personification of Death himself, but when it came to the subject of his being raped - nothing? How could all these horrible things happen to him and he move on, but here in this dark, dingy cell he felt more hollow than he ever had in his lousy life?

Lady Yvanka had seemed so kind at first. She gave them medicine. She gave them protection from guards and other prisoners. She fed them. She even gave them blankets for the cold nights. She promised to let them go within the year, claiming that trespassing, although a serious crime in her city, was forgiveable so long as they behaved theselves. She gave them hope. She had gained their trust.

Then she poisoned their food and made them do things they never expected to do and never wanted to do. It was betrayal, and the wounds that betrayal causes run deeply.

---

A few hours of silence later, Jubilee found the words that she was looking for, the words that could explain the emotions she felt beating in her breast and running through her veins like poison, the words they both were looking for but couldn't make sense of. "I want to kill her."

Wolverine narrowed his eyes. "Jubilee," he growled, a warning.

"I want to see her _bleed_." Her eyes misted over, ignoring his threat. She didn't care anymore. Who cared about innocence when it kept her in a dingy cell?

What use was her innocence in the Quarry or any other hellhole? The man she killed with the miner's pick was unintentional - it was defense, but he was still dead. Her innocence lost with a single swing. What was one more death on her head?

"Jubilee, ya don't want to do that. You think you do, but you don't. Don't go entertainin' thoughts o' death. Once you do, you can't stop."

"I want her to pay, Wolverine!" She bashed her balled fists into the gross puddle. She said his name condiscendingly. "Look at what she did to us! We can't even look at each other any more! It was one of her guards that killed all those people! She trapped us down here like animals and slaved us out and even made us like her for it! Then she spat in our faces with _that_!" She pointed to the discarded, poisoned food. "Don't tell me what I don't want! I want her to pay for this!"

Fast as lightning, he twisted her under him, pinning her down, his face dangerously close to hers. "Is that what ya want, Jubilation? Ya want to be a _killer?_ It'd be easy enough, girl! You've been around the ol' canucklehead long enough to know what it takes! But do you really wanna walk through the rest o' yer life with yer victims' ghosts chasin' after you?" His arms gripped her shoulders tightly, as if he could will the rage out of her and absorb it into himself.

Her smoke-blue eyes locked onto his own whiskey-brown. "What about you? You mean you _don't_ want to see her dead? You can't lie to me, anymore than I can lie to you. I can see it in your eyes, you want her blood just as badly as I do. So what's the deal, huh? Why are you trying to hold me back? Want to keep her death all to yourself?"

He was frozen in shock, as if he had been struck down by the lightning of epiphany. She was right, damn her. He didn't want her to kill Lady Yvanka because he wanted to do it himself. He wanted to disembowel her and hang her for what she did. He let her go. "Just so we're clear. Once ya start, there's no going back."

"I know," She said, her eyes narrowing as she dusted herself off. "If we get outta here, she's not just yours. She's ours."

Wolverine knew he would regret this. "Fine."

---

Wolverine heard the stone walls slide open. The guards came in and grabbed the two, dragging them to their feet. "Come on now, lovebirds!" Another guard laughed. "Wish Lady Yvanka would smile down upon me like you two, I'd kill for a good fuck!" They laughed joyfully, oblivious to the thick air of misery looming over the two prisoners they touted around like rag dolls.

The collar was slid on quickly, and Wolverine was yanked through the hall roughly. Jubilee was dragged by the arm. He could hear her kicking up stones behind him.

"Off for another beautiful day in the Quarry!" One Guard laughed in a sing-song voice. "Hope you two are enjoying yourselves in your cell!"

Wolverine twirled around and bunted the man in the stomach, catching him unaware and making him fall hard. He made one good thwack square in the guard's jaw, and he could feel that a few teeth had given way under his adamantium-laced sucker punch.

He didn't feel any rage or hatred or anger, just a wave of calm and the undeniable need to beat this man to a bloody pulp. He was cool and collected, assaulting the guard with as many blows as he could give.

"Ritchie!" Shouted Jubilee's guard, too busy trying to keep her under control, "get your fat ass in here now! The pretty's gone apeshit!"

"Get this motherfucker offa me!" The guard gurgled through the blood in his mouth and punches. Even with advanced healing from the drugs, the adamantium-laced punches kept him down.

"Heal from this, you bastard," Wolverine unsheathed a claw and drove it into the guard's brain, not caring that Jubilee was watching, not caring that he could die for this, not caring about anything. He felt nothing, just that cold void urging him to kill. Then he slid his claws upwards, cutting through his skull, ripping through flesh and organ.

Jubilee blanched as the blood flowed thickly from the dead guard onto the stone floor, dark red against dark gray. Had she anything in her stomach, she would have thrown up at the sight of the spongy, pinkish-gray of the one organ that separated man from the other beasts.

Wolverine was yanked away and lifted by the collar, cutting off circulation to his brain. His second guard had come to his first guard's rescue too late. The guard was dead, and soon Logan would be, too.

"You killed Price. That was stupid. Real fucking stupid, you filthy scut. You think you can get away with that shit just 'cause Lady Yvanka favors you?" the second guard said, wrapping Wolverine's chain around his neck, underneath the collar.

"No!" Jubilee cried as the guard tightened the chain around Wolverine's neck, his eyes beginning to turn pink under the pressure. "Put him down you goddamn sonofabitch!"

The second guard glared at Jubilee. "Big words," he said, then squeezed the chain around Wolverine's neck, out of spite. "Wanna see the whoreson die, pretty?" Wolverine was growing weaker, his body slowly growing limp. His vision blurred and blackened, a crying Jubilee the last thing he could see.

_No, he didn't want her to see him die like this. Not like this. This wasn't the last thing he wanted to see Jubilee doing - Not crying at his own demise, not in a place like this. _He lost his hearing first. He couldn't hear her anymore, he could only vaguely see her desperate tears. She was saying something - pleading for his life? - Black, fuzzy spots obscured his vision.

"Ryon, put him down," Jubilee's Guard said, two large hards keeping the struggling Jubilee in place. "I don't want to have to explain to Lady Yvanka who killed her pet."

The second guard eyed Jubilee's guard for a moment, considering. He very slowly lowered Wolverine to the ground and loosened the chain.

A gasp of air and a choke later, Wolverine was yanked back to his feet and dragged into the quarry.

---

"How are they doing, my love?"

"Well, my lady!" Indah said, rubbing a poultice on her Lady's hand gently. "Though they are quite angry."

The Lady couldn't care less about their emotional well-being. "I hope it will be a girl," The Lady said wistfully.

"Doesn't our Lord wish for a male heir?"

"Yes, but females are much better." She winked at Indah, who giggled. Anyone with half a brain knew that it was the Lady Yvanka who ruled, not her husband. He was half-senile with age, and Indah's herbs helped keep him that way. It was better for everyone that way. He was a tyrant - the Lady Yvanka was a better ruler, though admittedly not by much.

"When can we determine she is with child?"

Indah opened a jar of sweet-smelling, dried herbs and rubbed it over her lady's skin. "At least three more weeks. Though I am certain she will be," she said, putting her herbs away. "I have been feeding her numerous plant essentials that encourage fertility. She needed them since she was starving."

The corner of the Lady's mouth twitched in thought. Then she decided to change the subject. She took a slender, delicate finger and brushed Indah's hair away from her face. "After the child is born," she explained, trailing her finger down Indah's feminine collarbone, making her shiver, "I want you to increase the dosage you feed to our Lord. Can you do that?"

"It may permenently harm him," she answered, then closed her eyes as her Lady kissed her breast, trying to drown the rising sense of disgust at the thought of poisoning another person. "But yes."

"Good."

Indah loved her lady more than she could ever articulate, and the feeling was mutual. So why was Indah suddenly entertaining thoughts of letting those prisoners go? She watched as her Lady undressed herself. She waited, then the Lady began to undress her as well. Inside, her mind screamed at her. _You hate how she uses you. How can you let her use those two as well? _

She swallowed as the Lady led her to her bed. She felt terrible - terrible for poisoning the prisoners, and all the other acts of cruelty she had assisted the Lady through her knowledge of herbs and plants. She was the Lady's first-hand assassin, maid, and lover. And now she was going to betray her. She hoped she wouldn't die for it.

She lowered herself to the Lady's thin waist, kissing her. _So what if your life is charmed. So what if she showers you with love and gifts. Is that worth the cost of your soul?_ The lady closed her eyes and moaned under Indah's experienced touch. Indah closed her eyes as well, accepting her role that she was sure to play in the following days, may God forgive her.

---

"You look ill, my friend," explained Rooter, observing the abrasions on Logan's neck and burst blood vessel on his eye - turning his entire eye red. "Did the guards beat you too terribly?" He asked, gentle concern in his voice.

"Nah," He explained, grimly chipping away at the rock. Rooter fell silent for a moment, watching the glum-faced Jubilee shove the rocks quietly into the bag.

"What happened to you?" Rooter asked, knowing he shouldn't have. "You two have changed so much. The light in her eyes are gone."

"None of your damn business." Logan growled. He didn't want anyone to know about what happened. No one. Not Rooter, not the guards, not other prisoners, not the Xmen, no one. He wanted to forget and so did Jubilee.

Jubilee tried to hide her scowl at Rooter's nosiness, but failed. Rooter was a friend, so she should be nice - but living in this place made being nice such a hard thing to do. Every day that went by, she found herself a little colder, a little meaner, a little angrier. It was as if this place leeched away the humanity of all who lived here. It made her sick.

"Very well," Rooter said with a hurt tone. If they didn't want to talk about it, fine. He could just ask a guard later.

---

The guards called quitting time. Jubilee was shoved into into her cell, but Logan wasn't. She squealed like a frightened rabbit, knowing full well what was going to happen. "Where are you taking him!" She cried, more as a plea than anything else, and her guard scowled at her.

"He killed a guard, pretty. Where do you think he's going?" He said, and slid the stone wall shut.

---

He was led into a room that looked, smelled, and functioned as a torture chamber. One man was lying on a wooden table that was attatched to a winch, bent at a painful position. The Prisoner looked to Logan, sorrow dwelling in his ugly eyes. "I hope they kill you," he said honestly, "It's the best way."

Logan was shoved on his knees in front of Lady Yvanka and a frail looking man who sat next to her. He was dressed even more regally than she was. By the looks of him, Logan surmised he was the Lord Balsan, ruler of the underground city. Somehow, he expected the Lord to be a tad more intimidating. He glanced to Lady Yvanka, who stood still as a statue, looking down at him, nose in the air, as if she had smelled something terrible, and Logan was the pile creating it.

"Bitch," he cursed through bloody teeth, glaring at her.

Lady Yvanka stepped back, shocked. His bloody teeth, red eye, and the look of pure hatred made him look as if he was something that walked straight out of hell. She quickly regained her composure, nodding to one of the guards who held him still.

"You will respect our Lady!" One of the guards shouted, punching Logan so hard in the stomach that the wind was knocked out of him, leaving him gasping and coughing.

"I am Lord Balsan," the frail, shaking man tried to say, his words hard to understand. "This is...my...wife... my Lady, Yvanka." He explained, then stopped speaking, exhausted. He nodded to Lady Yvanka.

She pointed at him, as if she could summon lightning and strike him dead. "You killed a first class Prison Guard," she accused, then slapped him across the face in anger. "After all I have done for you, you repay me by killing one of my men!"

She looked over at the Executioner, a man who stood silently as a Roman God a ways off. "For that you should be killed. But I still need you," She explained, motioning her hand for the Executioner to step forward. "So that means I'll have to think up a _better _way to punish you."

The Executioner beckoned the two Guards over. They dragged Wolverine over to a part of the floor that was made out of iron. The Executioner strapped Wolverine to the metal floor, in manacles.

"You will be flogged." The Lady said, hatred dripping off her words. "Then our good doctor will do to you whetever he deems curious to science and the human body."

With that, she left with her husband. The two guards left also, leaving Logan alone with the executioner and the prisoner who laid on the table. The doctor watched from behind the table, finger curled around his bearded upper lip. He was told by Lady Yvanka that he could do anything to the man - so long as he wasn't killed. His eyes sparkled mischieviously. He had so many wonderful questions that needed to be answered with scalpel and body.

The executioner grabbed a tool from the table, eyeing it carefully. Should he use this one first? Or something else? He picked his weapons and tools carefully, making sure that he did this the right and proper way, to ensure a painful assault.

The prisoner on the table groaned at the sight of the weapons, knowing full well what kind of pain each instrument brought on. For the man strapped on the floor, the prisoner on the table could tell it was going to be a long and painful night.

---

The torture room was strategically placed above the prison cell so that the sounds the victims made could easily travel through the cells, that way each and every torture could be used an example of anyone who misbehaved.

Jubilee had recognized Wolverine's voice the first time he screamed. It would have been better if she simply imagined what was happening to him - that way her imagination would make it less painful than it really was. But the cell picked up every sound, leaving her imagination immobile.

Jubilee covered her ears, trying to drown out the horrific sound, but it did little good. Tears falling freely, she crouched into a tiny ball and screamed with Wolverine.

---

Indah couldn't sleep. She was going over her plan, making sure everything was just perfect so that the escape didn't point to her. Just go down to the prison and tell the lovely girl who slept there how to escape.

She heard the lovely man scream, and she wrung her hands. Would he be able to escape? Didn't someone say he had a natural healing factor?

"Ugh!" She sobbed, unable to accept that in a way, she had played a hand in their torture, though not intentionally. She put her head in her hands and shook her head, as if she could shake her guilt off her person.

She couldn't believe she was doing this! Betraying her love, her Lady. After all the kind things the Lady had done for her, how could she do this to her?

Wolverine howled again.

"Stop screaming!" She pleaded. His howls were terrible, as if every cry he made was a direct result of her doing.

"I'm sorry, lovelies!" She cried. "I'll make it up to you, okay! Just stop screaming!"

---

The screams had died down temporarily. Strangely enough, his silence was more frightening than his howls of pain. Jubilee was afraid they had killed him. The silence didn't last long, however, and she instinctively covered her ears again. "No, no _no!" _She hissed, clenching her teeth.

She didn't know what was being done to him. She thought that not knowing what they were doing to him would be better, but he was screaming louder, so that meant he was being tortured worse than he was earlier.

"I will kill you!" Jubilee screamed, her words inaudible under Wolverine's tortured howls. "Do you hear me, Yvanka! I'll kill you for this!"

---

Wolverine was finally thrown back into his cell, and Jubilee was instantly beside him, hugging him tenderly and talking to him, just as she had done back at the reaver base all those years ago. He groaned at her touch.

It was as if every inch of his body had gone unscathed in that torture room. No matter how she tried to help, she only seemed to make it hurt worse.

He was covered from head to toe in bruises, and one eye was almost black in color, having been swollen shut.

"Oh, Wolvie, look at what they did to you," she squeaked like a mouse, tears falling constantly.

Parts of his body had been burned, leaving deep, painful pits in his skin. A stitched up incision scar ran across his abdomen and down his chest. His back had been ripped to shreds.

"D-don't," Logan moaned in pain, "worry lil' darlin. U-uh, I'll uuuhhh," he was loosing conciousness again, which at the moment was a blessing, "...h-h-heal s-s-s-soon..." He lost conciousness. Jubilee shook her head, hands covering her mouth in horror.

She covered him with her yellow trench coat as best as she could and let him sleep, cradling his head on her lap, trying to keep him warm. Blood seeped through his shirt and her coat. She rocked him back and forth. "I'll get her. I'll get her for this. You just watch, Wolvie, I'll get her." Her eyes narrowed as she looked up at the tiny grate so far above her. "I'll make her pay."

---

Wolverine had been right - once she began entertaining the thoughts of killing Yvanka, she never stopped. Even in her dreams, Yvanka was cast in a tragic play of pain and death. She had fallen asleep over his limp, cold form, exhausted from sobbing.

He had died during the night. She tried CPR. She blew into his mouth and pressed on his chest, encouraging his heart to beat, but he never responded. When she finally accepted that he was gone, she screamed. She made one long, sorrowful howl of anguish and felt her heart snap into a thousand pieces.

She sat still for the longest time, feeling completely numb, the same way she felt when her parents had died so long ago. But unlike when her parents died, she wasn't in an expensive, warm house. Jubilee was stuck in a dark, dingy cell, alone. Like the darkest, coldest night she ever had to endure and ever would again.

---

About an hour passed before she regained the feeling in her fingers, before she could think clearly again, and come to the conclusion that she couldn't live anymore. Life wasn't worth it. She glanced down at the stagnant water and considered her own death. Would it really kill her if she drank the water? What if she tried to drown herself instead? That sounded like a faster way to die? What if she tried to kill a guard next time they came in - when they came in to discard his remains ... if they did? She looked back at the skeleton half submerged in the water. They didn't come back for him. Would she have to watch Wolverine rot now? She looked back at Wolverine's still form and bit her cheek until it bled, then sobbed.

Wolverine was dead. Her father figure was gone, lost forever. He wasn't supposed to die like this. If he was to die, she had always imagined he would do it either in his sleep as an old man or in fierce battle - having sacrificed himself for the greater good. Or maybe he would never die at all. But she had never, ever, imagined that he would die in a cell by being tortured. But what did she expect? He had no healing factor. It was supressed somehow - leaving him as vulnerable as everyone else.

She cried openly, her head buried in her hands.

"_FFssst!"_

She blinked the tears away. "Huh?"

"_Fsst!"_

She could hear someone above hissing at her. A rock landed on her head. She looked up.

"Lovely!" Indah whispered loudly, hoping no one else would hear her.

She glanced up to see the form of Indah through the grate above her. "What the hell do you want?" She growled through her tears, shielding Wolverine's body from being struck with anymore rocks the Orc girl decided to throw down. He was to be treated with respect - in life and in death.

"I'm sorry." The Orc girl said simply.

"Gee, that's thoughtful of you. You're forgiven, you murderous cow."

The Orc girl snarled, her eyes suddenly glowing red, her lips curling, making her tusks appear to grow in size from her snarl. "He's not dead yet! I gave him a drug so he could sleep! Check his breathing! It should be shallow."

Jubilee's heart jumped into her throat. She collapsed over Wolverine's still body and pressed her ear over his wounded chest. She heard nothing. Not a breath. Not a heartbeat. Nothing. She heard _nothing!_

"Slow." Indah whispered.

Seconds passed, but the seconds felt like minutes. Then she heard it.

_**Boom.**_

Her eyes widened in surprise, then looked back up at Indah. "He _is_ alive!" She covered her mouth with her hands. "Ohmigod Wolvie's alive! He needs medical attention! He can't live long with these wounds!" She shouted, much to Indah's chagrin, who was trying to be quiet.

"Shut up and listen! There's an inhibitor implanted under your skin, three inches above your left nipple." She explained as she fiddled the grate. It stayed closed, but it was most definately, intentionally and blessedly, left unlocked.

Jubilee put her hand over her chest in sudden realization. _The sore spot! _She felt it underneath her skin, small and swollen like a spider bite.

"That's what keeps you from using your powers. Remove it." Indah explained, then looked up quickly, as if she had seen something that frightened her.

"How do I remove it! I don't have anything down here!"

"That's not my problem!" Indah shouted, and disappeared from the grate, having run away from whatever it was that had scared her.

Jubilee felt excitement rush through her veins. "Remove it. Right. With what?" She looked around for anything she could use to extract it with, and found only the old, poisoned food. "Nothing, there's nothing in here!" She hissed.

Then her eyes fell on the shallow-breathing Logan, and an idea sprung to mind. She grabbed his hand. "Wolvie," She said, trying to shake him awake. "Wake up!"

He stirred, but remained under consciousness. She grit her teeth. "Wake. Up. Now."

No response.

She growled. "Dammit, Wolvie, wake up! Do I have to do all this myself!" He didn't even murmur a response. He was too tired, too cold, and too physically damaged.

She felt the rage build inside her again. "God damn it, why did you have to kill that guard?" She bashed her fits onto his sore chest, not caring that he had a large incision scar there, and then she had ripped stitches loose. "Why! If you die, I'll never get out of here!" She hit him, over and over. "Wake up! This is our big break, you **jerk! **_Don't ruin it for me!"_

He made a gurgling sound, a sound full of pain, and rolled over, reacting to her painful blows. In an attempt to defend himself, he unsheathed his claws with a snikt! and attempted to scratch her across the face. He was too weak and blinded by the hot chisel to make an accurate swipe or tell that Jubilee was the one causing the assault. His arm fell over his chest, and went limp once more, claws still extended.

Jubilee's heart was in her throat. She did it. She got him to pop his claws. She choked back an excited whimper. "Okay, big kahuna, you've gone this far." She swallowed and grabbed his claws, slicing up her fingers in the process. "Sorry about smackin' ya back there, but how else could I get you to pop your claws?"

Her blood made holding his hand steady a slippery and difficult business. She narrowed her eyes and pushed her yellow trenchcoat away, exposing his bare and bruised chest. "Hold on, Wolvie. Just one more ..." She pressed his own claw into his flesh. _"...hurt..."_ She drug his claw down, creating a deep, red incision. She let go of his hand and dug her finger into his wound. She felt around for it, looking for that tell-tale inhibitor. She felt a sharp edge, tiny and metallic, underneath her index finger. "...got it!" She shouted, ripping it out of his chest.

She threw it into the stagnant water. She leaned close to Wolverine, watching his chest and bruises carefully in the dark. She could barely see the bruises begin to fade. She closed her eyes, thanking god. Then she swallowed again. She had one more thing she needed to do. Her own.

She wiped her bloody hands on her jeans and picked up Logan's clawed hand, pointing them on herself, just above her left breast. She took in a deep breath, and pressed his claw in.

"AAauugh!" She screamed, feeling his blades sink into her flesh. She wasn't even an inch deep between her ribs yet. She had to go deeper. She screamed again, her hands shaking, tears running down her face_. "U-U-Uhhh," _She gasped in pain, then let his clawed hand fall to his healing chest. She fell backward, blood seeping down her shirt.

"Can't stop yet, Jubilation," she said to herself, then took in a deep breath, summoning all the courage and strength she had left, and dug her finger into her self-inflicted injury.

It stung painfully, the salt and grit on her finger making it hurt so much more. She grabbed her own inhibitor and yanked it out. Relief filled her instantly; It was out. The battle was half over. She fell back, exhausted by the stress, and stared up at the grate she knew Indah had left unlocked for them.

Suddenly that locked grate looked different. It wasn't a prison anymore. It was an escape route. Beathing heavily in relief and excitement, she stared at that grate so far above her in wonder. Just what in the hell caused Indah to have such a sudden change of heart? She turned her head to look at Wolverine, who's chest was beginning to take on its smooth-skinned appearance.

"Healin' factor's workin' overtime, eh, Wolvie?" She whispered with a small smile. His breathing had begun to return to normal. Blood was coming back into his pale face.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she heard him mumble in response. Jubilee let out a small smile, her sights returning to the grate. "Rest up. We got a few hours left of night. When you feel better, we're busting outta here."


	7. The Escape

**At the mansion**...

The moment the inhibitor was yanked from their bodies, every telepath who actively searched for them immidiately sensed it. They couldn't feel emotions and they couldn't read thoughts; they were too far away, but the lifesigns were strong as ever, like a candle burning in an impossibly dark room.

Jean shrieked at the sense of them, their heartbeats and souls overwhelmed her telepathic ability. She was wearing cerebra, which magnified telepathic abilities. She threw cerebra off. "Professor!" She shouted, "I've found them!"

---

**Massechusetts Academy...**

Emma and Sean were demonstrating a particularly deadly flight maneuver to Monet when Emma felt Jubilee's lifesign activate, strong as ever. Emma lifted her arms to make the sign of the 'X', the sign that mean stop. "Wait, Sean!" She shouted, just as he was about to give her a round-house, staged kick to the head.

"What's the matter, Emma?" He asked, confused that she would stop the exercise.

"It's Jubilee!" She shouted, then grew frustrated at his confused expression. "Sean! She's alive! I can feel her!"

Monet's jaw dropped. "You can feel her? How?" She couldn't feel Jubilee at all ... and what was this about her 'being alive' talk? Didn't she say she was convinced Jubilee was alive, having run off on a mission with Wolverine? _Was_ Jubilee in trouble? Why hadn't Emma told her? Just what the hell happened?

Monet hadn't the experience to know yet that telepaths could 'track' their friends mentally, no matter where they went on earth, and keep track of their lifesigns. It didn't help find anyone, but it helped to know who was still alive and who had died.

With the case of Wolverine and Jubilee, their lifesigns were non-existent. Usually that was the first sign that they were dead, but telepaths could feel the death of a close friend easily enough, and none of the telepaths sensed their deaths at all. Just a fading away. It was a fascinating puzzle and a hard search. Such a 'tracker' trick took years and years of honing telepathic skills, and even as talented as Monet was, she wasn't strong enough for that feat. _Yet._

Emma pushed past Monet, too excited to stay and explain. She ran out of the Danger Grotto, off to call Xavier, to tell him she sensed her. Wherever Jubilee was, the White Queen reasoned, she had to be in dire need of help.

---

**Back At the Mansion...**

Betsy dropped the katana she had been polishing in shock, her telepathy flaring to life. Wolverine. His lifesign. It was active. He was alive.

She picked up her katana and put it back on her dresser. She stroked its metal affectionately, a smile twisting on her lips.

As if there would be any question that he was still alive. He couldn't die by a serial killer, for that wasn't the way of warriors. She exited her room, walking slowly, fists clenched.

She opened Xavier's office and opened her mouth to speak. "Request to take the blackbird!"

Jean ran in through the other door, excitement pouring from her. "I've found them!"

The phone rang. Xaver put his hands to his head at the sudden onslaught of noise. Both women quieted instantly. Xavier answered the phone. "Yes, Emma, I know, I felt them, too. Yes, Scott and Beast are already in Moscow. I will. Thank you." He hung up the phone and looked to Jean.

"You felt them, too Professor?"

Xavier nodded. He then looked to Psylocke in question. "You wish to use the Blackbird? Why?"

"Should Scott and the others need more effective transportation than American Airlines, if Wolverine and Jubilee are indeed in danger."

Xavier quirked an eyebrow. He was sure she wanted more than to just provide an escape route - she wanted a piece of the action. "You and Jean may go."

---

**The prison...**

Jubilee felt very nauseous and her stomach twisted into little knots. She was sure she was going to throw up from the anxiety and anticipation. She shook, her body flooded with adrenaline.

They were thirty feet high in the air, her arms gripped tightly around Wolverine's neck, his claws embedded into the stone chute. The walls were slippery as hell, and the stone was weak, so any moment the wall could crumble away, and they could fall to their deaths.

Even worse than that, Logan had picked up the sound of heavy footsteps, which meant that they weren't alone. A guard was approaching, and soon he would be stepping over the grate. If the guard was lucky, he wouldn't look down and notice the two mutants. If he was unlucky, he would look down, notice the two, and die.

Jubilee swallowed as her ears picked up the approaching footsteps. "Wolvie," She whispered as quietly as she could considering she was so close to his ear, "I know you don't wanna hear this, but I'm gonna upchuck. Right now. Right frickin' now."

"Don't you _dare_." He whispered through clenched teeth, determined not the lose his balance and grip on the wall. How could she throw up in a time like this? He knew the answer, of course. She was scared. "Concentrate on something else." He said, listening to the footsteps, hoping -praying!- that the guard would turn a corner.

But the guard didn't turn a corner. He kept coming down their lane, oblivious to the escape attempt, oblivious that the grate was unlocked, oblivious that there were two very angry mutants just a few feet away from reaching the grate, and oblivious to how much they hated him.

"Jubilation," He said, wishing he never had to be put in the position to say this, "ya can't be innocent anymore." There, he said it, and immediatly hated himself for it. He loved her innocence. He always had. She was the light to his dark. She was living proof that he wasn't good-for-nothing. If he could raise such a fun-loving, life-respecting girl just by being himself and being the best at what he does, then that meant something profound. There was hope left for him and others like him. There was hope for all humanity. Love still existed and would prevail over Evil. That was why he hated himself at this moment. He was telling Jubilee to do the exact opposite that he respected her for.

"I know ya don't like killin' and I'm proud o' you for making the decision to never take a human life...and maybe once we're outta this stinkhole ya can go on practicin' it..I wouldn't mind...But if we're gonna get outta here alive, you're gonna have to use yer powers like ya mean it." He hated those words, and he hated himself even more for being the one to say it. He never wanted her to lose whatever last shred of innocence she had on account of him.

The man in the quarry was a horrific accident for Jubilee; unintentional. But if they wanted to escape the underground city alive, she had to be aggressive about taking lives. Her paffs would have to be generated with the force and intention to kill. If she left one of those healing guards breathing, they would be caught in no time and they both would meet the executioners axe or rope of whatever other sick thing he used to extinguish lives. Lady Yvanka was only as forgiving as the next human, and an escape attempt would not put her in a very forgiving mood.

"Otherwise we can go back down to the cell and wait for Yvanka to let us go." He had to give her that option. For Jubilee's innocence, he would stay imprisoned as long as needed.

Now she felt like she was going to cry and throw up. She let out a nervous laugh. "If that was a way of you makin' me concentrate on somethin' else, it didn't work."

Fear gripped her heart as the Guard stepped over the grate. She fell silent, frightened and in shock. Logan picked up on the scent of fear and clenched his teeth tighter. His jaw hurt from the constant pressure he put on it. Could he live with himself letting Jubilee become a killer? Could he live with himself knowing that he played a hand in it?

Even though she popped off earlier and swore she would kill Yvanka, Jubilee was just angry, she didn't mean it. She thought she did, but she couldn't have. She always threatened to kill people when she was angered enough. But threats and actions were to entirely different things and they both knew it.

He was going back down. He couldn't let her kill this way. They would have to find another way to get out. He was ready to pull his claw out of the wall and descend.

"No. I'm not staying here anymore." Was Jubilee's only reply, monotone and lacking all emotion. He felt Jubilee reach for the grate with her fingers pointed straight to the guard..

"Wait-" Wolverine said, just as a strong pulse of energy burst through Jubilee's fingertips and struck the guard. The light was intense, heating up the room, making the walls shake with the force. It made a sickening explosion sound, and the guard fell instantly, dead.

Logan swallowed his words and quickly ascended the wall and pushed open the grate. Jubilee squeazed through the grate and looked down the walkways to make sure no one approached. "Crud, Wolvie! Someone's gonna hear that!"

"Damn right they will, so we gotta split!" He dropped the dead guard into their cell. He fell silently and landed in the stagnant water, his body sinking slowly under the weight of his armour.

Wolverine shut the grate and locked it. "If we're lucky, they won't notice we're gone until Quarry time tomorrow. Ya did good, Jubilee. He died instantly. He didn't feel no pain." He grabbed Jubilee's arm and started running, Jubilee's fireworks working as a flashlight, lighting up the darkness of the tunnels around them.

---

**In Moscow...**

"Scott, have you left Moscow yet?"

"No, but we're boarding in five minutes." Scott put the phone closer to his ear to hear better. The phone lines were old in this area, and it was hard to hear anything.

"Don't get on the plane. Logan and Jubilee are still in Moscow. I'm trying to locate them still. Go back to the sewer tunnels, I have a feeling they'll be there. They may be in need of assistance. We're sending Jean and Psylocke with the Blackbird." The phone went dead. Scott hung up the phone. He turned to Beast.

"Scott? What has transpired?"

"Put on your shorts, we're going swimming." He didn't sound the least bit happy, but he sounded determined, and that meant that the call was probably from Xavier, hopefully with good news.

"Swimming? In weather like this? I'll catch my death!"

"We're going back to the sewers. Xavier thinks they're still down there!"

---

**The prison...**

Her fireworks were such a blessed sight, and she was happy to have them back. She was also happy to be temporarily free, running once more. She nearly ran into Wolverine as he stopped suddenly, sniffing. He quickly pointed to his left. "Down here!"

She panted as she followed after him. She had to stay close to him. She was working as his eyes - allowing him to see through her powers. "What are you looking for, Wolvie?" He seemed to be following a familiar scent, but whose? Who would he be looking for when they should be escaping?

"Gotta find Rooter. He's the only one who knows the way outta here!" He ran down the corridors, Jubilee's fireworks fizzing and spitting around him, waking up every prisoner in the area. The prisoners shouted, begging to be let out.

"Wolvie, should we let them out?" She asked, glancing at their miserable desperate faces as she ran past.

Logan let out a scowl as he ran. "Most of these people deserve to be down here, Jubilation. Don't go getting soft on convicts."

"Havent they suffered enough, though?"

Wolverine slowed his pace, Rooter's smell growing stronger. He considered her words, thinking. He didn't answer, too distracted by Rooter's cell. With a SNIKT! The lock that kept his cell closed was broken into three different pieces. They fell to the floor with three loud Clanks. Rooter jumped to his feet in surprise.

"What's all this commotion?" Rooter asked, rubbing his eyes at the intensity of Jubilee's fireworks. "Pretty! Your powers! Y-you create light?" He looked to Wolverine and paled. "But they sent you to the torture room! I was certain you had died!" He looked at his broken lock, and shook his head in disbelief. "This is not real."

"No time to chit-chat, Rooter! We're bustin' out and you're helpin'!" Logan pointed at Rooter with his claws. "Or do ya wanna rot here forever?"

Rooter didn't even think twice. "I'm with you!" He exited his cell quickly and took his place beside Jubilee. "I never thought I would live to see the day. Though I should warn you, no one has ever escaped this prison."

"Wolverine isn't just anybody!" Jubilee responded with a wicked grin.

"Neither are you, apparently." Rooter observed.

"Enough small talk, we gotta get outta here!" He turned around to see all of the nearby prisoners staring at him. "Listen up! I'll let you all outta here, but you're all on your own!" The entire cell block cheered.

As he ran down the long stretch of walkway, and slashed at the locks to the inmates' cell doors. Jubilee blasted the ones he missed, the locks shattering as if the keyholes had been filled with TNT. "I thought you said they deserved to be in here, Wolverine!"

"You're right, Jubilee, they've paid for their sins. Besides, they'll help keep the guards occupied, I reckon!" He could hear Jubilee and Rooter behind him, keeping up pace well. "Rooter, which way you figure will take us to the surface, to the sewers of Moscow?"

"You see those pipes above your head?" Rooter panted, not used to the physical activity.

Wolverine looked up, suddenly noticing that there actually were pipes up there. He had always been too preoccupied to notice.

"Just follow the pipes you see above you. That's a water line. The pipes are set up in a natural spring above ground. They use good-old-fashioned gravity to bring drinking water into the tunnels." The pipes were huge, about as wide as the trunk of 200-year-old tree. How could he have not noticed something that big?

"Can we flood the tunnels?" Jubilee asked.

"We could, but we'd drown with the guards and the prisoners if we did that." They continued to run through the dark tunnels, lucky to not have come across any guards yet. Logan heard the distinctive sound of a gun being cocked. He stopped in his tracks, struggling to see. He smelled three guards, not too far off. "Dim your lights, Jubilee!"

Wolverine turned to Rooter, pointing at him. "Did you have any useful powers before they stuck you down here?"

Rooter put his hands up in defense at the sight of the claws being pointed at him for the second time that day. "No. I just made people sick."

Wolverine sheathed two of his claws, leaving the index claw out. "Good enough, we need all the help we can get. Hold still!" With a quick, accurate plunge, he impaled Rooter in the chest.

Rooter didn't even have the time to scream. He fell to his knees, at Wolverine's mercy.

Once Wolverine extracted Rooter's inhibitor, Jubilee stomped on it repeatedly.

Rooter slowly rose from his knees, gasping, hand covering his tiny wound. "You mind warning me before you skewer me with those pigstickers!" He then looked down at his hands, jaw falling slack. "It's back! My power! It's back!" He could feel his ability flow through his body like a current of electricity, ready at his command.

BLAM! A bullet ricocheted off the stone walls, a shot meant for Wolverine, and all three mutants ducked instinctively. Jubilee lit up the dark tunnels with her sparks, revealing three guards. Wolverine leapt for them and landed on one, raking his claws down the man's body.

Rooter pointed to one man, unleashing his power. At first glance, it looked as if Rooter did nothing. There were no special effects with him - until the guard dropped his weapon and groaned, then threw up repeatedly. He fell to the floor, holding his head, the tunnels spinning out of control, making it impossible to stand.

The third guard had jumped for Jubilee, swinging his gun like a club, ready to knock her out. He was ordered not to kill her, lest he be killed himself. Jubilee wouldn't have known of that, so when he swung at her, she paffed him in the cerebral cortex, the intention to kill, just as Wolverine had warned her. He fell on her, heavy, limp, dead. He paffs died away, her arms pinned underneath the large man. The tunnels fell dark.

Wolverine knew it was hopeless to stab the second guard anywhere else but between the eyes - where he couldn't heal fast enough. The damage he had made to the guard had healed over instantly. He managed to jump on the guard's back, and it being pitch black as it was, he made an educated guess at where his target was and drove a claw through his brainstem. The guard fell, Wolverine's aim being true, and the last guard sat clinging to the floor, sick.

In the shadows Wolverine made quick work of him.

---

**The sewers **

They splashed through the tunnel sewers where they had seen Wolverine's claw marks, past where Jubilee had burned the side of the building. Instead of turning left as they had before, they made a right. The sewers were like a labyrinth, easy to get lost in, its passageways all exactly alike. Wolverine and Jubilee had been effective at leving breadcrumbs - up until this point, where everything stopped.

Scott blasted a chunk out of the wall, marking where they had gone, and continued. The site where they had found the mauled serial killer wasn't far off.

---

**The prison's tunnels**

"We can follow these pipes two-thirds of the way out. But if you want to get to the sewers, you'll have to turn left at the T section coming up. It's about half a mile off." Rooter panted, his lungs, legs, and powers exhausted.

They had taken care of two more men who didn't fall easily. Rooter and Logan had taken to keeping count - Rooter had two, Logan had three. There weren't nearly as many guards as they had expected there to be - Rooter assumed that the other prisoners were keeping them busy. They had released at least thirty, and who knew how many prisoners managed to release others.

"Great," Jubilee responded to the comment about the distance she would have to run, the sides of her stomach aching as she ran. She was out of shape thanks to her imprisonment, and she didn't hesitate to let everyone know.

Wolverine stopped in his tracks, sniffing. "Hope you two don't mind taking a detour," He then glared. He had identified the owner of the scent. "The good Doctor."

"Doctor? You mean the one who - Oh, Wolvie ..." She didn't even want to remember all of the things that Wolverine had endured under the doctor's curiosity. "What are you going to do to him?"

He crossed his claws, making X's. "Payback!"

---

**Half an Ocean Away...**

The Blackbird had apparently been out of comission, so Jean and Psylocke ended up having to take 'The Thunder,' a new and relatively small aircraft capeable of breaking the sound barrier, among other things. It had been upgraded with Shi'ar technology, making it the most superior form of transportation next to automic teleportation.

With the superior technology and small size of the ship, the two telepaths were only twenty minutes away from Moscow.

"We're not in range yet, but we should be, soon." Jean said, trying to contact Wolverine and coming up blank.

"Whoever is responsible for their disappearance will have to answer to all of us, if he or she hasn't already." Betsy commented, jaw set. No one messed with one of the Xmen without having to face them all.

---

**The prison tunnels**

The doctor didn't have a chance. He actually had a scalpel and tried to defend himself with it. He managed one slice across Wolverine's chest, which healed over quickly. The doctor didn't have a healing factor - he wasn't a guard.

Jubilee watched as Wolverine made a strategic stab with his claws, pinning the man between his two claws and the wall, his middle claw still sheathed. The doctor couldn't move. He was stuck. Helpless. At the mercy of his captor. Just as Wolverine had been. He wasn't lost on the irony of it. Neither was Wolverine, and Wolverine was more than able to inflict the same damage that had been inflicted upon him earlier.

Jubilee couldn't let him do that. The doctor was a bastard, but he wasn't a guard. He was worthless and meaningless, and Wolverine didn't need another torture on his conscience. "Don't kill him, Wolvie!"

He pressed his free claw next to the doctor's delicate skin, glaring. "Stay outta this, Jubilation, he didn't torture you." He pressed his claw into the skin ever so slightly, not breaking skin yet, but the threat was loud and clear. "So waddia wanna start with first?" He asked the doctor through narrowed, burning eyes. "Want me to remove your spleen without any morphine and let you watch? Mine grew back thanks to the healin' factor, but you? You don't have one, do you?"

"More reason not to do this, Wolvie! Listen to me! Please! You do this and you'll be just like him!" She was being a hypocrite, she knew that, the way she went on in the cell about all the things she wanted to do to Yvanka. But killing out of neccesity and killing out of vengeance were as different as wine and water. She could forgive herself for killing the guards, but not for killing Yvanka and Indah, and she couldn't forgive herself if she let Wolverine kill this way.

Rooter glanced left and right nervously, on the look out for guards. "We should really be getting on our way," he said, fear evident in his words. He whole body shook with fear. "We'll be found. We'll be surrounded. We have to leave! We can't stay here! We have to keep moving!"

The doctor broke a sweat, eyes wide. He swallowed and stuttered. "D-d-dont-"

"Don't_ what?" _Wolverine roared. "Don't burn your eyes with a fucking chisel! Don't cut open your belly and mess with your intestines! I could try some of that, bub, 'cause I got six scalpels of my own! But I doubt you have any guts to begin with, so what's the bother, eh? Why torture a man unable to defend himself?" He sheathed his claws and threw him across his working table, vials and glasses shattering on impact with the doctor's body. "Ya won't have to worry about me doin' any of that!" He turned to Jubilee and rooter, expression grave and angry. "I may be damned to hell but I ain't gutless!"

The doctor shivered with shock and fear on the stone floor of his work room, watching Wolverine walk away. "Consider yourself lucky!" He said, Rooter and Wolverine taking his leave.

Jubilee glared at the doctor, Wolverine's tortured screams replaying in her head. Wolverine had scared the piss out of the doctor, a puddle of urine having collected under the man. She gave the doctor a low-grade, non-lethal paff and one good kick to the belly. "That's for all the other people you've operated on, you sick little maggot!" She ran after Rooter and Wolverine, her thirst for vengeance temporarily satisfied.

---

**Moscow**

They landed the Thunder on a stretch of bare ground, not far from where the contents of the sewer poured into a nearby river. Jean agreed to stay with the Thunder, ready to take off if it was needed, and Psylocke left to find Beast and Scott.

Psylocke ran through the tunnels upstream of the sewer, not appreciating the location Wolverine had decided to pull off his disappearing act. "Why couldn't you get lost in the Carribean?" She scolded, trying to keep down the bile that rose in her throat at the smell. She was going to need a bath after this.

She could hear Scott and Beast not far off. "Beast! Cyclops!" She shouted, catching their attention. She caught up with them. "I've come to help. Jean is waiting in the Thunder in case we need to make a hasty retreat."

"Good thinking. We might have to. I heard three explosions coming from this direction," he pointed with his fingers, "it sounds like there is also either rapid fire or Jubilee's fireworks."

They both broke into a run. "We don't know what kind of a foe we're up against yet, so the plan for the time being is to get Wolverine and Jubilee and get out."

---

**The tunnels**

They had made a fairly successful escape attempt, and things were looking fairly positive, since Rooter, Jubilee, and Wolverine both recognized this area. Apparently, the sewers of Moscow weren't too far off.

Then they turned a corner and slid to a halt, having caught sight of at least ten Guards, guns aimed, blocking their exit.

"There's no way we can fight all of them, Wolverine, no way, no how!" Jubilee shouted in panic. She could paff them all - explode the terrain under them and kill them all - but that would kill her friends in the process, so that was out of the question. So was this it? They get this far, then go back to their cell and get executed for attempting an escape and killing several guards?

Logan sniffed, catching sight of a familiar scent. Was that ...? No, it couldn't be. He had too many run-ins with bad luck for this to be true. Maybe he imagined it? He sniffed again. Aside from the sewers, he picked up three familiar scents - Psylocke, Scott, and Beast. Excitement ran through his body. They were here! It wasn't his imagination! It was a rescue attempt! And by the smell of it, they weren't far off. "'Hope springs eternal,'" he quoted, inciting a quizzical look from Rooter.

"What was that shit you just said, pretty?"

"We aren't gonna fight them."

**_"What?" _**Rooter asked, now beginning to regret following Wolverine and Jubilee. At least he had a life in the cell. Up here, with those ten guards - and was that five more he saw in the shadows? - all that was up here was impending doom.

"We're gonna run though 'em."

"Are you fucking crazy? We'll get shot!"

"Yeah, crazy as can be. Hit them with everything you've got, and don't stop running. The sewers are close by, and a few friends to boot! Follow me and keep up!" Wolverine took to his feet from his crouching position and darted for the large sewage pipe he could barely see ahead of him, some fifty feet away. Between him and the exit to freedom were the guards.

---

**Moscow**

Jean was laying out the emergency kits inside the Thunder, preparing for anything that may happen, when she heard Wolverine's thoughts sift through her head. 'Damn guards are in my way. Get out of the way. Gonna slice ya. Don't get hurt, Jubilee. Keep up, Rooter, we're almost there.'

She sent a thought to him, disclosing the location of the Thunder. _We're here, Logan!_

_Jeanie, I love ya. Get the engines running, we've got a whole fleet after us. _

Jean telepathically sent out a warning to Scott for a retreat repeating what Wolverine had said, and Scott telepathically thanked her.

---

**The border of the sewers and tunnels **

He had let out the animal inside him. The beast had graciously taken over, determined to get to the sewers, and god help whoever was in his way. Wolverine let out a howl, impaling two Guards who had open-fired as he ran past. He was shot in several places but didn't feel it, adrenaline flowing too thickly through his blood. Jubilee let loose a series of explosions that set off little earthquakes, shaking the ground.

Rooter screamed as a bullet seared through his shoulder. Against Wolverine's orders, she stopped and ran back for him. She couldn't leave Rooter to die. She grabbed his hand and yanked him to his feet and began running again, the ground around her coming alive with bullets. She had four guards all to herself ... Wolverine was too far away to help ... If they shot Rooter so effectively, why couldn't they hit her?

They approached her, reloading. "We'll let you live if you come with us willingly, with none of those fireworks!"

"Shyeah, right! You are, like, in no position to be making demands!" She pointed to them and let out a mega-paff and watched as they scattered for cover.

BOOM! The entire cavern shook and rocks from above came falling down, threatening to kill anyone caught underneath them. She could hear more men approach from behind and wailed.

Didn't these guys have anything better to do than hunt her and Wolverine? Why was she so damn important to them? What about all those other prisoners they let lose! Was it because no one ever escaped that they were willing to give their lives to keep it that way?

"You hear that? It sounded like a - **WOA!"** Scott shouted just as he, Psylocke, and Beast reached where the sewers ended and the outskirts of the underground city began. Wolverine was running at top speed, claws extended, Jubilee's fireworks exploding behind him. They were being chased by what looked like an army.

Wolverine was running like a demon fresh out of hell, straight at him, several men chasing after. "Shoot to kill Cyclops!" He shouted as another bullet embedded itself into his back. "They got healin' factors!" He finally reached the tunnel. Then he looked around him frantically. Jubilee. Rooter. Where were they? Had they fallen behind? He caught sight of Jubilee, several men closing in on her and the collapsed Rooter.

---

Jubilee was surrounded. There were too many guards. She let Rooter fall, and she fell to her knees beside him, having given up. She couldn't kill anymore. She'd had enough. She had killed at least seven when one was too many. There would be no more.

Turned out that she wouldn't need to kill anymore. A familiar red beam shot above her head, making a loud _ZACKT!_ sound. It downed three guards, and she twirled around to see Cyclops standing tall in front of the entrance. The other guards backed off, realizing they were out of their league with the arrival of more mutants.

"We have her covered, Wolverine! Get to the Thunder!"

Psylocke helped Jubilee to her feet. "You have an uncanny ability to place yourself in the most dire of straits, girl!"

Beast flung the injured Rooter over his shoulder and made his way back to the sewers, Cyclops covering their backs. Once Psylocke and Beast had made it back to the sewers, he blasted the roof of the cavern, then as he backed further into the tunnel, the roof of the sewer line, causing several large boulders to collaps and seal off the exit.

Scott knew it wouldn't take long for the giant-sized men to bust through the barracade, but it would buy them time to get out. They all ran for the Thunder as fast as their feet oculd allow. "Just how did you get into this mess?"

"Don't remember the specifics and don't care to!" Wolverine replied.

"Ditto!" Jubilee shouted.

Jean already had the engines blaring. The craft was ready for take-off. The X-men and Rooter flooded into the craft and slammed the door shut.

Wolverine and Jubilee collapsed on the floor of the craft - not because they had fallen, but because they were so happy to see it. Rooter, on the other hand, had been laid out on the floor by Beast, a red blotch on his old prison clothes.

The craft lifted from the air and took off with a thunderous roar, whipping up dead leaves and grass.

"Rooter got shot," Jubilee explained as Beast inspected the wound. "He fell and I went back for him."

Jean glanced back at the Xmen behind her, catching sight of Rooter. She winced. Not at his wound, because she knew that he would be all right, but at his face. Never in her life had she seen someone that ugly. But she sensed in him a kindred spirit.

Beast grabbed the medkit that Jean had laid out earlier and began his work on him. "Well, Mr. Rooter, I surmise that with my superior medical skills, rest and proper nutrition, you shall be on your way to a prompt recovery." He disinfected the wound as best he could, Rooter complaining in pain as he did so.

"I understood about half the shit you just said, but thanks." He mumbled in pain. Then he leaned back and exhaled. "Tell me I'm dreaming, pretty."

"You ain't dreaming. You're a free man." Wolverine said, letting his words seep into the tired man's body. Rooter closed his ugly eyes and let out a small smile, despite the pain he felt. At this moment, right here and now, he never felt better in his life.

_"Pretty?" _Psylocke and Cyclops both questioned, their words thick with curiosity and humor.

"What!" Wolverine and Jubilee both answered, turning to them indignantly.

Cyclops couldn't help himself. "Are you a pretty man, Logan?" Further away, Jean stifled a cruel chuckle.

"Clam it!" Wolverine mumbled, then looked down at Rooter. "We gotta stop this 'Pretty' bullshit here an' now."

Rooter let out a crooked grin. "I'll never stop callin' ya that, Pretty." He winced as Beast's hands trembled with mirth, causing a painful vibration on his wounded skin.

The entire aircraft busted up laughing, even Jubilee, the traitor! Wolverine growled outwardly, but inwardly he felt glorious.

---


	8. Epilogues

**Rooter's Epilogue**

After Rooter had been stitched up and allowed to leave the infirmary, Wolverine had taken him to the most greasy fast food restaurant in the area. "You're as skinny as Jubilee is," Wolverine said, and explained that he needed to fatten him and Jubilee up.

All three of them had gorged themselves on all kinds of unhealthy food and drank as much water as they wanted. They had hamburgers, fries, ice cream, burritos, and everything else that was on the menu. They laughed and joked and shared stories until closing time. Then they hit another fast-food restaurant, then another, then another. After a while they purchased food just to be around it, not neccesarily to eat it.

When all the restaurants closed, they went home and took turns in the shower, washing themselves over and over until they felt clean. Rooter had taken his time, having not seen a shower in five years. He poured sweet-smelling soap over his body, careful to avoid his stitches, letting the sensation of the hot water turn his body to an exhausted mush of skin, muscle, and bone. He shaved and brushed his teeth, which was something that he never thought he would be able to do again.

Then Wolverine loaned him some clothes and showed him his temporary room. He could stay as long as he liked per Xavier, as a way of thanking him for helping take care of his Xmen when they were sure they would have starved to death. His knowledge of the mushrooms and the inner workings of the Prison was what had saved their lives.

With a room, food at his fingertips, a bed, and unlimited water, Rooter felt like a new man. The things people took for granted amazed him. But he was done thinking about what he had gone without. To dwell in the past was to die in the present, and he was more than willing to leave his past far behind him.

Rooter collapsed on his new bed, enjoying the bounce of it and enjoying the soft linen of the blankets. He rubbed his ugly, but clean, face against the linen and smiled. The last thing he thought of before falling asleep? _I will never find two greater friends._

---

**Jubilee's Epilogue**

Jubilee had eaten more that night than she ever had in her life. Even though she and Wolverine had been fed nightly, they still weren't fed enough. It was enough to survive by - but just barely, and after they had been fed the lichen, sometimes they didn't trust the food enough to eat it at all.

Beast had stitched up the scratches she had inflicted upon herself with Wolverine's claws, and prescribed her multivitamins and folic acid to help with her malnutrition. But it was her soul that needed healing the most, not her body.

The restaurants were Wolverine's gift to her and Rooter, a way to help the process. She could have paid for the food herself, but that gift, at this point in time, was far too precious to deny. After she ate and was satisfied, she leaned against him sleepily, smiling at Rooter as he told one of his stories. Wolverine was solid as a rock behind her, working as her support, her father figure.

What happened in the cell would remain in the cell. They agreed not to tell any of the Xmen (more on Jubilee's behalf than Wolverine's) because it didn't concern them. They had dealt with it. Their relationship was back - like flesh, it had been wounded - scarred, but it was healed. It had healed as if it had a healing factor of its own. They were partners, and more importantly, best friends. Nothing could ever change that. Not a prison, not a lichen, not Lady Yvanka and her Orc Girl.

When she came home to the mansion, after Rooter had taken his shower and Wolverine had taken his, she spent her time under the hot water, scrubbing her body so hard that it left her skin red and flushed. She couldn't seem to get clean - as if some invisible layer of grime remained on her. She washed herself over and over, scrubbing and lathering until her skin hurt too much for her to continue.

Then she dried herself off and went to her room and fell on her bed. She closed her eyes to sleep, relieved that she was home.

---

**Wolverine's Epilogue**

Wolverine's healing factor was already taking care of his malnutrition. It was doing a well enough job that Beast told him to stuff his face with food, take a shower, go to bed, and let his healing factor do the rest. And he would be damned if he didn't do just that, since that was what he wanted to do in the first place.

After Jubilee was released, and after Rooter was stitched up, given morphine, a bottle of multivitamins and a shot of penicillin in the rear, Wolverine was quick to kidnap them and drag him to every restaurant still open. Jubilee was far too skinny, and Rooter had gone for years eating nothing but bread and mushrooms and the tiniest shred of meat. He was going to make sure Jubilee fattened up and Rooter, for once in five years, get his fill.

Even though his healing factor was already taking care of the damage starvation wrought upon his body, his problem was more psychological than anything else. He had gone for months surviving on the tiniest amount of food. He had been deprived of food, and now he was going to indulge.

After the restaurants, they went back home for a good, long shower. He had gone months without a bath, and to feel hot water on his skin was perhaps the most relaxing sensation he had felt since their return. But for some reason he felt that he couldn't get clean enough.

He scrubbed and scratched until his skin turned red and healed, then he would scrub his skin again, creating an endless cycle of miserable cleaning, as if it was a painful ritual. He was trying to shake off the phantom grit he still felt, even though he looked clean as ever. He realized later that no amount of scrubbing would remove that feeling - the only thing that could remove it was time.

He knew Jubilee was waiting for her turn, so he finished and dried off, retiring into his room, still not satisfied that he was clean enough. He then laid down on his bed, on his covers, breathing in his scent, and relaxed. He took in a deep breath again, relieved to smell the relatively Clean Wolverine and opposed to the Smelly Wolverine, and let out a content sigh and listened to the goings-on of the mansion.

The little noises of the mansion had always driven Wolverine crazy. Coffee brewing, the chatter of nearby Xmen, a blairing radio, the television, clanking of dishes and the hum of a washing machine. At times it was overwhelming. It was one of the reasons why he preferred the outdoors as much as he did - his sensitive ears were at peace with the wind in the trees, the gentle trickle of a stream.

But at this moment, those loud mansion sounds were more relaxing than any forest. The overwhelming smells were the same story - they washed over him, calmed every nerve, reminded him that he was home with his family, the Xmen. No dingy cell, no quarry, no unkind words and beatings, just him and the people he loved.

He was relaxing on his bed, his eyes half-closed. His entire body felt marvelous - his healing factor was back, he was clean, and his belly was full. He took in another deep, content breath of air, and exhaled. No wet blanket smell. Just every kind of smell one could possibly imagine to be in a household.

---

**Later that night...**

After a few hours of people coming in and out of his room to welcome him home and make sure he was okay, the sounds of the mansion died down and people retired for the night. Soon the mansion's sounds all but died off, leaving an eerie silence. All he could hear were gentle snores.

And he heard Jubilee getting out of bed and approaching his room, the gentle footsteps easy to distinguish from the other Xmen. He heard her gently knock on the door.

He opened it to see her worried face. He didn't need to guess what the problem was - she had a nightmare, and by her expression, it was the kind that lingered after you woke up and left you in a cold sweat.

"I can't sleep," she explained, feeling sightly stupid for saying it. She looked down, feeling as if she had to explain herself for intruding on his own sleep. "For months in that cell I dreamed of being in my own bed, and I'd wake up and I'd be back there in that puddle, and you'd be behind me actin' like my pillow."

Wolverine put a hand to the back of his neck in fatigue. He knew the feeling all too well. She may as well have been talking about him. He was expecting this to happen. He was used to experiencing things like this. He had a wisdom that only came with experience. Jubilee wasn't used to it, so it would take longer for her to get over it, he reckoned. To be honest, he would have been surprised if she hadn't come. Nightmares would be just the beginning.

"So I dreamed I was back in the cell and you were dead." She finished pitifully. That horrible night after he was tortured, when she thought he had died in the night. The panic she felt. The misery. The hopelessness. The desire to die herself. "Then I woke up and you weren't there. I had to... I dunno...Uh..." She bit her lip.

"...See if I was still alive?"

She nodded miserably.

"Oh, kid, c'mere." He pulled her into a bear hug, and her body trembled. "I was so afraid when you died, and now I'm home with everything I dreamed for and in my own bed and I'mscared'causeyou'renotthereandcanIsleepinyourroom,dude?"

"No." He answered honestly. It wouldn't be proper.

He felt her head nod under his chin in understanding.

But he couldn't sleep either, partly because she wasn't there. How many times had he awakened in the night while in that cell, afraid that she had stopped beathing? She was his lifeline, and she was imprisoned on account of him inviting her to go to Moscow with him in the first place. If she had died, he wasn't sure if he could ever forgive himself or go on living at all.

He led her out of his room by the hand, leading her downstairs. "What say we share the couch?" Somehow, oddly enough, it felt more appropriate.

He sat on the floor, his back leaning against the couch, in the same position he adopted while sleeping in the cell. Only this time the floor was softer, dry and clean. And he wasn't resting against a cold wall - it was a delightfully puffy, warm couch.

Jubilee rested her head on his stomach, having curled into a little ball, using him as a pillow. He used the remote to turn on the television and turned the sound down to a very low level. The cell had always a little bit of noise. If it wasn't dripping water, it was clinking chains. If it wasn't a soft snore then it was a guard's quiet conversation with another.

He rested his hand on her cheek, his thumb resting under her nose. In the cell, it was his way of making sure she was still breathing. He could feel the air as she exhaled and inhaled. He leaned his head back on the soft couch and closed his eyes, drifting off to a deep sleep.

---

Jean was always an early morning person. She had a schedule she lived by - before her shower, she would dress in her red sweats and go jogging. After she dressed, she went downstairs and stopped at the sight of the two sleeping mutants. They appeared to have fallen asleep while watching television. It was a rather adorable sight.

She thanked her lucky stars that they were back, safe and sound. She knew they had some level trauma, particularly Jubilee and Rooter, but that could dealt with through counseling. She was just happy they were alive and home.

She opened the front door as quietly as she could, trying not to disturb the two. She hadn't been protecting her thoughts because she thought they were asleep. She hadn't intended to broadcast her thoughts. A smile spread across her face as she heard both Jubilee and Wolverine respond to her telepathically, sleepily.

_ It's good to be home._

_**...To be continued.**_


End file.
